


Infected

by Minky-way (Cardgamesonmotorcycles)



Series: Intravenous [3]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Blind Character, Canon Divergent, Description of Injuries, Drink Spiking, Emetophobia, First Kiss, Grief, Halloween Costumes, Hospitals, Loss, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentions of Fires, Mentions of alcohol dependence, Minor Character Death, Mourning, Pet Cat, Piercings, Possible alcoholism, Rescue Missions, Unrequited Crush, Vomiting, bad drug trip, beni-shigure, discussions of mortality, getting caught, halloween party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-07-18 14:17:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 99,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7318618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cardgamesonmotorcycles/pseuds/Minky-way
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running towards the edge of a cliff would always have terrified him before, but it had been crumbling for a while now and it was better to dive than to fall.</p><p>________<br/>Otherwise known as: Septic, or the one with all the feelings</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist @ [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/minky-way/03-infected)

“Get the fuck _off_ me, asshole!” His foot kicked out and he heard it connect hard, whoever had been grabbing him falling back and not even hesitating to twist and lash out at them again, head beginning to buzz like the scream of a wasps nest between his ears. His vision was blurring and faltering as he kept slamming his foot down, unable to hear anything, unable now to see anything but far too much red, feeling his leg tremble as it connected with soft flesh hard, solidly, breaking bones and grinding them into ash.

He didn’t know how he managed to get out, up the flights of stairs, clinging onto the walls and swaying so madly he knew he fell a few times, tumbling down steps he’d just spent hours climbing, people walking past him laughing so loudly it made the walls crumble against his fingertips and his throat closed up. The terror of being buried alive was the only thing that kept him going, looking back and shapes of monsters, horrible things meeting his gaze, staring straight into him like he could shatter under those red burning eyes.

He wanted to scream but his jaw was wired shut and no amount of straining could force it open, making it outside and eyes watching everywhere as he tripped on nothing but then maybe something, falling straight down onto his face like a plank of wood.

He just lay there for a while, the world was spinning and everywhere he looked there was terror, in the buildings that were melting onto the pavement around him, the wet tarmac his cheek rested on sticking to his face like treacle and stretching up in long sticky strands when he managed to get onto his knees. Even the open mouth of his bag looked like the jaws of an animal, teeth of the zip razor sharp and only the furry head poking out of it seeming normal, unable to hear the words it spoke as anything more than a buzz of deep bass that distorted and contorted until it made him feel like the stars were vibrating.

Why he moved so quickly he didn’t know, but it could have been due to looking back at the club he’d scrambled out of and watching as it tilted forwards dizzyingly, collapsing forwards and bricks scraping at his ankles as he set off at a run. His hair was like snakes when it whipped into his face and he was going in the wrong direction, utterly lost in unfamiliar streets and people he saw as wild animals attacking actually just partiers recoiling in alarm.

He couldn’t quite breathe, the air he was sucking in was poisonous gas and he knew he couldn’t stay in it, he needed to get somewhere safe where they hadn’t tortured this island, stopping at a street corner and legs caving in, clawing at the wall that grabbed onto him and tore off a fingernail as he tried to get away and gravity pulled him back in.

The pavement was weighing him down and his jeans were like barbed wire around his legs, he barely knew where he was but he could hear the roar of a crowd following him, running as fast as he could but getting nowhere, bumping into something, some beast that stank of rot and pus, flying to the floor and staying there as it retreated and he still couldn’t open his mouth to scream.

 

* * *

 

Then something he recognised, furry paws on his chest where he splayed across the ground, a pink tongue lolling out, unable to place the thing to a name or anything else, just knowing he knew it and feeling like it was a beacon of hope as he staggered upright on the second attempt and the sticky of the pavement dissolved against his cheek with a red smear.

But it was leaving, the thing he knew, the animal, smaller than the lampposts that blared their burning light at him, melting away his hair and tugging at each tiny pore on his body until he felt trapped beneath their acid yellow. So he followed, tripping and falling and stumbling and crashing into everything, walls of poison ivy and tables made of vine that entangled his legs and tore into his skin, loose shoe lace like a snake that trailed along behind, always one step away from biting into his ankle.

Then a door and he lost sight of his savior, turning to look for him and still running, hearing something snap as hard concrete stairs rushed up to meet him, dark eyes on him and distant words flickering as he felt unconsciousness try to claim him, managing somehow to shove him into his bag, losing him under piles of biting clothes and a shattered bottle that sliced his wrist.

But he was underground again, in a dark room where he couldn’t breathe and he could feel the walls closing in, could see, even in the dark, the stalactites and stalagmites closing together, trying to skewer him, to trap him here until they could get him.

Stairs again but this time as he climbed each one the one below cracked and fell apart, crushing whatever might have been there and falling into an abyss, clawing his way up almost on his belly, reaching the top dizzily and breaking into a run, looking back at the growing blackness, hitting something hard that thudded and losing track of everything.

 

* * *

 

He was on alert the second something slammed into his door because he’d been broken into more than once before by small rival gangs with imagined grudges, so if the door were to suddenly fly off it’s hinges he wasn’t entirely sure he’d be so much as surprised. But still he slipped a butterfly knife he’d rather not use or admit to owning, into the pocket of his sweatpants and slid on some sturdy trainers since he was more the type to fight with kicks and punches that weaponry.

He was on the verge of messaging Tio and others for potential backup, knowing that even if it took them ten minutes to get there then it was better than nothing and the sheer noise from whatever had hit the door was loud enough that it had to be being kicked down. All he could really do was wait until it was, realising with a curse that his coil was charging in the bedroom and he knew being distracted from the door for even a second would be something more than just stupid.

So he waited for the next hit on the sturdy but not quite sturdy enough wood to come, five minutes passing, then ten with nothing happening but his palm starting to sweat on the warming metal he clutched in his pocket, praying he wouldn’t have to use it. But this wasn’t normal, usually when this happened, and he cursed the life choices that had led to him being able to say that, the hits would continue solidly until the door was off the hinges and whoever it was had come inside to try and murder or kidnap him or whatever.

So he did something he’d never had to do before, knife now unfolded neatly in his hand, small blade a minor reassurance as he opened the door in one wide movement and stepped into the hallway, looking right and left to try and work out who his assailant was this time. He really, really shouldn’t have been surprised to see blue hair splayed out messily across the tile floor, nor should he have been surprised to see blood trailing up the corridor where he had presumably walked.                                                                                       

The knife went back into his pocket the second he saw him, because while Sly wasn’t exactly the sweetest person he knew, he was also fairly certain he wasn’t there to try to murder him, in fact definitely not given how still he was lying on the floor. So he just sighed and approached, wondering what the fuck he’d managed to do now, other than knock himself out by smashing into his door, rolling him over to see his face and deciding that yep, he was out cold.

He was too easy to pick up and he would have dragged him in by his arms if he wasn’t aware he seemed to be injured, kicking his bag along the ground and inside, accidentally tumbling over a couple of times and sounding like it was full of broken glass, which also wouldn’t surprise him. He eased the door shut with his foot, planning on heading back to lock it in a minute because one scare was enough to put him on guard, regarding all the blood then his pristine sofa and deciding to just put Sly on the floor instead, carefully lowering him down onto the carpet, leaving his side to get his bag.

He was drunk, that was certain, he stank of alcohol and smoke far more than normal, his clothes were absolutely filthy like he’d been trying to swim there across the ground, and his hair was matted with the same blood that stained his cheek. He didn’t really know what to do, mildly annoyed that he’d turned up again, and in this bad a state, but guessing that maybe he hadn’t known where else to go and he’d hate to turn him away if he’d come to him deliberately for help. He just stood, heading into the kitchen to get a glass of water for when he woke up, able to hear the sound of him moving over the running water and praying with an exasperated glare at his ceiling that he’d agree to just go to bed like a good boy.

 

* * *

 

But good boy Sly of course wasn’t, leaning heavily against the wall Mizuki had propped him against without moving, which should have been his first clue that he was something more than just drunk, realising as he got nearer that his chest was heaving madly and his nostrils flaring. His eyes were so hugely dilated they were almost all black and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead, trying to stare everywhere at once, eyeballs like loose marbles in his head as they refused to stay still, locking on him for a second before whirring off again.

“Sly, you all right?” He didn’t respond, just flinched at the noise and pressed a little further into the wall and he should have expected him to be drugged up too because he always was, crouching down at his side and offering out the water cautiously because something was wrong. “Come on, drink some of this, it’ll help you feel better, you’re probably really dehydrated.”

He didn’t respond, but he made a kind of unconscious whimper as he moved closer, leaving the glass on the floor instead and Sly staring at it like you might a poisonous snake or a scorpion’s tail, Mizuki sliding it across the floor and his eyes growing wider.

Then Mizuki spoke again, or tried to, and Sly lashed out, kicking wildly and the glass smashing under his foot, at least one shard of glass in the skin, one white sock becoming bloodied but it wasn’t that Mizuki noticed, it was his reaction to getting the water on him. He shot back like he’d been burned, like it was red hot acid burning into his skin, slapping and scratching at the skin so hard the shard of glass was slicing into him, deeper into his foot and pale skin of his palms becoming wet with blood.

He knew he had to get the glass out, moving forwards quickly to do it and Sly not even reacting, just continuing to paw at his damp foot and leg, seeing god knew what in his messed up brain, chemicals reacting with whatever else he’d done that night and turning everything into a horrible hallucinogenic nightmare.

He threw the shard away, gathering the rest of the glass and sliding it across the carpet, out of his reach, ignoring the tiny shards piercing his own palms, trying to reassure a boy who couldn’t hear him, didn’t know who he was, “Sly it’s just water! It’s fine!”

He couldn’t reply, he had his jaw clenched so tight Mizuki could hear his teeth grinding, wondering why he was doing that, why he had since he’d arrived, quite literally running straight into his door and ending up lying there on the floor, scrabbling at the tile as if on a climbing wall. He just pressed his hands over his ears suddenly, rocking forwards a little as he spoke like he was trying to drown out some horrible, terrifying din of noise, Mizuki feeling himself grow queasy as he watched because it was awful to see him like this, so out of it that he didn’t even recognise a friendly voice.

“Sly come on, you’re okay, you just took a bad pill or something. Sly jus- Ren, where’s Ren?”

“Mizuki,” the deep voice answered him from within the confines of Sly’s bag and he abandoned the freaking out boy for a moment, digging him out and watching his pad over to his master, whining as he pawed at his knee, retreating as Sly almost hit him, shuffling backwards messily and gasping with a momentarily open mouth as his back hit the wall.

“Ren what happened, what did he take?”

“I did not see him take anything, I believe he has been spiked.”

“Again?” If an Allmate could look curious, Ren sure managed it, head tilting to the side and eyes darting off to watch Sly shrink away from the wall he was against as if it might attack him, burying his head in between his knees and squeezing it so hard it had to hurt. “It was before he got you. Shit, what do I do?”

“You need to remain with him until the drugs leave his system.”

“How long will that be?”

“Twelve to seventy-two hours.”

“You’re serious? He’s going to be like this for twelve hours?”

“Unlikely, he will possibly vomit then pass out. He may require medical aid.”

“He can’t get medical aid nobody will treat him! _Fuck!_ Let me get him a bucket, fucking hell Sly do you have to be so stupid?!” He didn’t mean to be angry at him, he really didn’t, because he was clearly having the worst trip of his whole life and that wasn’t his fault. But it _was_ because he’d gone out, presumably to Grime, gotten wasted and taken drugs of his own no doubt, wouldn’t have kept an eye on his drink or even tried to keep himself safe.

So he returned with his washing up bowl and it was like he’d been fucking timing it, head escaping from his thighs the second it was there and sick only making it into the black bowl as Mizuki basically guided it, grimacing then paling and frowning.

“Ren, there’s blood in his puke what the fuck does that mean?” He turned around for a second and that was a terrible idea because the second Sly realised he was standing over him, blocking him into the corner he freaked out, kicking the tub and lukewarm liquid splattering Mizuki’s arm. To his great credit he didn't freak out, he worked in a bar so it wasn’t the first time it had happened, but he still didn’t much like it, staring at the mess soaking into his carpet, spreading across an annoyingly large area, just yanking his shirt off and wiping his skin clean with it before dumping it atop the pile.

“Blood in vomit can have a number of causes,” as helpful as Ren was, and right now his ability to run instant searches really was a life saver, his incredibly robotic, unemotional way of speaking was so infuriating Mizuki almost wanted to kick him. “Liver cirrhosis from alcohol abuse, a tear in the oesophagus, a stomach ulcer or other problems in the digestive system.”

Mizuki just stared at him for a second, turning back to Sly as he whimpered and his mouth was open again, trail of dried blood and sick down one side of his cheek and so disgusting Mizuki nearly gagged despite his strong stomach. He’d somehow lost a shoe and his socked foot was pushing against the floor as if trying to ease himself upright, pressing into the dampness and smearing it about worse but his carpet was the least of his concerns right now.

Mizuki had been too focused on how psychotic he’d been acting to register his injuries, one of his cheeks had a long, deep graze on it, filled with chunks of gravel as if he’d been thrown across the pavement. His jeans were torn along one leg and there was blood oozing through the material, he wished he could get closer but as he did one hand reached out to push him away and his sleeve was pushed up enough that he could see a long, messy cut running diagonally across it.

But the cut was scabbed up already so it wasn’t as worrying as the floppy movements of his hand, unable to push him away and entire wrist bending at an unnatural angle as if it was broken, ignoring his wet, queasy gulp as he gripped the limb further down his forearm to examine it.

“I think he broke his wrist, Jesus Ren what was he doing?”

“He went to Grime, somebody spiked his drink then was dancing with him, he assaulted them severely then left. His motor skills have been compromised.”

“In Japanese, please.”

“He kept falling, into things and onto the ground. He fell into your stairs, I believe that is where he gained the fracture, he also cut his legs on a table he became tangled in.”

“How did he cut his wrist? Was that deliberate?”

“I do not believe so but I did not see.”

“How did he get here?”

“I led him, he seemed to recognise me and followed me. I am sorry to impose but I did not know where else to go, he needed help which I could not provide.”

“No, it’s, you did the right thing, Ren. Jesus, your master is a mess, huh?”

“He does seem to get into dangerous situations.”

“You don’t say,” he muttered a little darkly, aware of Sly just staring at him, particularly at his chest though his gaze was blurry and not even slightly lecherous, head lolling occasionally, and slipping off its perch on the wall, just letting him hold the limb but panicking and pulling back harshly on his damaged arm when he dared rub a thumb over his bloodied skin.

“N-No- I- Ren, where’s Ren? Ren! Ren!”

Somehow it was worse now he was talking, suddenly grabbing onto Mizuki instead of pushing him away, voice high pitched and panicking and demanding all at once, like he had Ren, like he’d been taken prisoner, not even calming down when the dog nuzzled at the hand he’d wrapped round Mizuki’s ankle. He released him but when he grabbed the dog and the bartender stepped forwards the muttering began again, a steady messy chorus of ‘no no no no no’ that he couldn’t make stop, trying to move away on his broken wrist and falling to the floor instead, hitting his head hard against a bookshelf.

“You’re going to knock yourself out, Sly, Jesus,” he’d reached for his head before he registered it, and it his hand hadn’t been between it and the bookshelf he probably would have been unconscious by this stage, as it was Mizuki’s fingers ended up being whacked off the sharp side and the yelp of pain he made only seemed to scare him further.

It was a mess, Mizuki was clutching his hand and knowing it would bruise like fuck, at a total loss of what to do, Ren was pawing at Sly's face and neck ineffectually, whining and barking in alarm, nothing he could search for helping him now. And Sly, well he was crying now, quietly admittedly, burying his face into Ren’s fur and entire body trembling horribly, legs shaking and bouncing on the floor erratically, unable to stop their movement even if he’d been coherent enough to. He was terrified, it was obvious, but Mizuki didn’t know what to do, wondering whether to just leave him there, clinging to Ren for a couple of hours, to observe him until he passed out which was apparently likely giving his racing pulse.

He just covered him lightly with a blanket, shuddering hard once as it draped over his knees before curling into the fabric, consciousness returning to him a little, though maybe just having his eyes shut helped whatever monstrous things he was seeing.

“Ren, I need you to look after him while I clean up, okay?”

“Understood,” his voice was muffled but Mizuki knew even the oldest Allmates could track bodily functions, so if anything happened he’d be able to report it straight away and hopefully it wouldn’t be something like a heart attack, because if it was they’d both be unable to help him.

“Good boy,” that was probably condescending but he didn’t really care right now, wiping a hand down his face then remembering it was bloody and probably covered in dried sick and groaning, feeling a little queasy himself and wondering when he’d be safe to shower.

So the next half hour, probably more like an hour actually, was spent sweeping up broken glass smeared with the blood of two people, wiping up sick that made him gag, spraying the entire place with air freshener and the carpet with febreeze, and heading into the hallway to clean up the blood with a damp cloth. When he returned, tired, sweaty and covered in too many bodily fluids to even think about, Ren was waiting for him, padding over and allowing himself to be scooped up and fussed over.

“He has been asleep for ten minutes, his heart rate has slowed down. I think he will be okay now.”

“Good,” he murmured it quietly, scratching at Ren’s head and wondering how exactly one treated a robotic dog, he could hardly give him a treat after all, just figuring that plenty of belly rubs would be in order once Sly was safely sorted out and in bed. “Do you think he’ll wake up if I undress him and clean him up?”

“It is doubtful.”

“Okay cool,” he nodded slowly, lowering Ren onto his dining table with one last appreciative rub, sighing heavily before heading into the bathroom to grab his first aid kit again, wondering when the last time was it had been used for anybody but Sly and not able to remember.

 

* * *

 

None of his injuries were too bad, he started with his face, cleaning the gravel out of the nasty graze and wiping it clean with antiseptic that must sting, glad he was out for the count as he decided to leave it unbandaged, slipping him carefully out of his shirt next. His broken wrist would have to wait, he had no idea how to deal with it, so he cleaned up the messy cut along the length of it, handling it with care and blinking sleep out of his own eyes, bandaging it and heading over to the other hand, checking it for glass before cleaning it with so much skill it barely took five minutes to have it cleaned and wrapped in sterile white.

“Do you think he has a death wish, Ren?” It was an absent question, and he half expected the Allmate to have gone into sleep mode a while ago, surprised when he answered, Mizuki just listening as he lay Sly gently on the floor and worked down his jeans, frowning at how big they were on him, hipbones sharp where his fingers grazed over them.

“I believe he does not care for his own life. As for being suicidal I do not know.”

“Hm, that’s what I thought,” they didn’t speak after that, he just worked into the morning hours, cleaning his torn up leg where apparently a broken table had ‘trapped him’, whatever that meant, and wincing as he saw how deep the glass had gone into his foot, taking a while to stop bleeding. He almost wanted to wash him, to run a warm, soapy cloth along his grubby limbs and to wipe the dirt off his face, but he knew he needed to sleep and that was more than he was willing to do, just carrying him into his bedroom and Ren trotting along behind, managing to scramble onto the bed to pull the covers back with his tiny teeth.

“Can you still monitor him while you sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, wake me if anything changes, alright?”

“Understood,” he walked around in a circle a couple of times before settling down in the crook of his neck, eyes open as Mizuki pulled the covers carefully over him and made sure he was tucked in, touching his forehead and glad it was less clammy. Then he lay down, and any idea to lie awake and look after him was gone, robotic eyes closing and his own following suit, consciousness slipping away like his common sense seemed to every time Sly was near.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, I’m here again,” it was more of a groan than anything, eyes fluttering open and mind feeling so heavy he couldn’t move, taking only a few seconds before pain overcame him and he winced, trying to sit up only for his hand to give way underneath him with a stab of pain that made his grit his teeth hard. He felt like his head weighed a million pounds, flopping back into the sheets and raising his hand shakily to regard it, gripping his arm with the other hand and watching with some amusement as his fingers swayed about bonelessly. A break then, not the first one he’d had, glancing at the bandage on his wrist and realising in the same moment that he was naked but boxers, able to feel the sheets against aching legs, blinking absently before turning to regard his company.

Ren was curled up beside his neck as always and he spared him an exclusively fond smile before his eyes landed on the bartender, who looked as wrecked as he felt, he was splayed out on his front, blankets barely covering him and still in his sweatpants. There was blood on his fingers and something unpleasant was crusted up his arm, Sly cringing as he realised the taste in his mouth could explain that

He managed to get upright eventually, glad Ren and Mizuki stayed asleep as he wormed his way out of the sheets, standing and his legs like jelly underneath him, stabbing pain running through his foot the moment he rested weight on it and using the walls to drag himself to the living room, bandaged shin confusing to say the least. But finally, _finally_ he arrived at the couch, sinking onto it heavily and so pleased when there was both a bottle of water and a packet of cigarettes there, leaning forwards with a pounding head to open the drawers and rooting through their contents without care until he found a lighter.

The smoke didn’t really hurt as much as it normally would and he took a swig of water, swishing it around his mouth and swallowing with a grimace because he could taste blood and he absently ran his tongue over his teeth, pleased he hadn’t lost any because that would be a pain. He just sat back, leaning into the soft material and closing his eyes, letting ash fall onto his chest or wherever it might choose to land, trying to remember the evening, getting to Grime was a given, then drinking, dancing, heading to the toilets a few times. Some guy trying to dance on him, but then it all faded into nothingness and he wondered if he’d drunk more than he thought, not even sure how he’d gotten to the bartenders let alone why it looked like he’d been beaten half to death.

“Sly,” but the familiar deep voice of his allmate broke through his hazy recollections of what might have been, managing to lean down and scoop him up messily, plopping upside down onto the couch and stubby legs wriggling as he wormed himself upright.

“How do you feel?”

“Mm, like shit, what happened? Why am I here again?” His hands were in Ren’s fur again, working out a knot on his back and stroking over his spine as he settled down comfortably, lying on his stomach and large eyes regarding him with the lack of emotion he always had.

“I believe you were spiked, I was worried for your safety after you left Grime so I guided you here. I knew Mizuki was a friend of yours and hoped you would be looked after here.”

“You led me, huh?” He nodded then, tongue lolling out a little unsurely, as if he might snap and yell, which if his brain was a little less scrambled he might, but he just let his head tip back onto the couch and blinked smoke out of his eye, scratching his head affectionately. “Thank you.”

They lay there for a little while, Sly drifting in and out of sleep but only for a few seconds every time, taking a drag of his cigarette whenever he forgot and lighting a new one when he knew he couldn’t try and return to unconsciousness anymore, wishing he could remember and knowing there was only one way he could hope to.

“So, what did he do? I mean, what happened?”

Ren recounted the tale the way he liked, straight to the point and without any additional, unnecessary comments, without trying to make him feel guilty or showing worry about him even though he knew it had been there. He just listened silently, nodding occasionally as he relayed the information emotionlessly, tail drooping occasionally but Sly’s fingertips along his back encouraging him to continue, strokes of his hands almost therapeutic for him as well as the allmate.

So he listened and heard he’d been bandaged, thrown up all over him and basically been a complete and utter mess of a human again, heard how Mizuki had stripped him down and cleaned the blood and dirt off him, carried him to bed and tucked him in next to Ren. Tried to silently judge how that made him feel and not managing even a little bit, feeling strangely absent, as if none of that had happened to him and Ren was mistaking him for somebody else.

 

* * *

 

By the time he was done it had to be midday, light coming through the chinks in the blinds doing nothing but warming his skin pleasantly, almost wanting to stand and open the glass, to let the summer breeze wash in and to savour this moment of peace.

But then Mizuki woke up and he knew even as he rolled his eyes that the chance of being left alone now was completely gone, doubting even himself when he emerged from his bedroom looking confused and just regarded him silently for too long for him to feel anything but uncomfortable.

“Enjoying the view?”

“Something like that,” everybody around him was being cold today, and with Mizuki’s arrival even Ren seemed reluctant to be on his side, squirming away from under his palm and curling into his side instead, creating distance between them that hurt more than it should. “I’m guessing you feel terrible?”

“I’m fine,” he answered shortly, spitting it out and just as frosty as Mizuki had been, the irony between his apparently gentle treatment the night before and now making fresh bile rise in his throat. “You need to fucking shower, there’s shit all up your arm.”

“That would be your vomit, and you’re welcome.”

“I didn’t thank you.”

“No, you never do,” he certainly wasn’t meant to hear it, but Ren obviously had too, ears flattening to his head as if he had been told off too, Sly somehow more annoyed that his allmate had been upset than he was at the almost disappointed words.

It was strange, of all the tones he was ever addressed with, disappointment always stung the most, whether it was his Grandma or Mizuki or a total stranger, he’d rather be screamed at than have that let down expression focused on him for a single second.

He’d already turned to leave as he spoke, bare back retreating into the bathroom and door closing firmly behind him, hearing the bolt slide into place and frowning because he was certain he’d never locked the door before when he’d been there. He contemplated his words for a moment, formulating a thought and making it audible a little too fast, voice thoughtful and distracted, “am I ungrateful, Ren?”

He didn’t know how to answer but then of course he didn’t, his master was barely fit to be called that and he was all too aware of how fast he could snap, AI or not, he was programmed with emotions and he wanted to be truthful as much as he wanted to avoid angering the boy whose side he pawed at nervously.

“It is a possibility that you may be regarded that way, yes.”

He would have laughed at the answer if the vagueness didn’t make something in his chest hurt, if his clear avoidance didn’t make him realise his opinion as clear as day, just changing tactic, “Do _you_ think I’m ungrateful?”

“I could not formulate an opinion. You should ask Mizuki,” if it was possible, his stare would be a little knowing, as if certain that he had asked Ren if only to avoid asking Mizuki, since they were the closest two people to him, which was sad considering one of them wasn’t even a person.

 

* * *

 

He emerged later than he normally would, scrubbing a towel through his hair and completely ignoring him, disappearing silently into the kitchen and emerging about half an hour later, thrusting a plate of toast and bacon into his hands. He didn’t quite have the heart to complain the bread was burned and the bacon was soggy, just choking it down quietly and finishing the bottle of water, nodding his thanks silently as he yanked his plate back roughly.

“You’re in a good mood,” it was a little sarcastic and he regretted it the second he turned around to face him, having eaten his own bacon already, with much more loud crunching than he felt was necessary. He just raised his hands in apology and rolled his eyes, able to feel the waves of annoyance coming from him and squirming a little under the unusually distant treatment, having been prepared for a telling off and concerned words, not this apathy.

“Yeah, getting woken up by what I thought was somebody breaking in then discovering you unconscious and covered in blood instead really was the highlight of my evening,” the sheer amount of attitude in his voice was honestly ridiculous, sarcasm biting and cutting into his skin, swallowing hard as he spoke reluctantly.

“So, how bad was I?”

“You want the truth?” he shrugged then, because a lie was fine if he wanted to tell one, Ren had filled him in anyway, just listening to Mizuki sigh and turn away, knowing he’d been sick of this for a while.

“You were completely off your face and thought I was an evil monster or something, you threw up into a bucket then kicked it over the floor and me and you injured yourself about twenty different ways.”

“Hm, sounds like I had a good night.”

“This isn’t funny, Sly!”

“I never said it was,” he was glaring now but weakly, movement hurting his head and stopping easily, rubbing at his forehead and wincing as a sharp pain shot through the base of his neck, hiding his face, albeit unintentionally. “You looked after me again.”

“Of course I did, you never exactly give me a choice,” that tone again, that disappointed, defeated way of speaking that made his stomach shrivel up and all his childish objections die in his throat, his obnoxious attitude retreating under a wash of cool guilt.

“You didn’t have to, I- I mean, nobody else would, so,” he hadn’t meant to say that, he’d meant to say thank you but that had slipped out instead and it was equally true so he supposed he didn’t mind much.

He sighed then, exasperated and sounding angry with himself if nothing else, “how many times will I have to say this? I care about you, Sly.”

“How inconvenient,” he just picked at his nails, staring at the bandaged one with confusion before realising he was utterly covered in bandages so it was pointless to question just one, thinking he must have been as bad as Mizuki said to get this hurt and not remember any of it.

“You really need to start looking after yourself, you’ll get yourself killed or attacked again or something,” that had been a low blow and Sly’s gaze was more hurt than angry, a weak scowl given the harsh nature of the words and the memory they referenced, the one he’d been trying to avoid repeating this time only to mess up. His voice softened automatically, apologetically, saying something he didn’t know he believed and almost surprising himself, “I won’t always be here to help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Yes you do!” His head jerked up as Mizuki raised his voice, shouting because he made everything so difficult and he was so ungrateful that he hated him a little, acting like a selfish child, not once saying thank you or showing any appreciation for everything he did for him. “I don’t have to fucking help you!”

“Then don’t! I don’t need you!”

“Then get out, don’t come crawling back like you always do. Leave and stay gone for once and stop messing up my life! Go and get drugged and raped and bleed to death in some alley somewhere, or overdose in some grimy club, because you know that’s how it’ll end, you can’t look after yourself and you don’t even try. Don’t you care about your life at all?”

“Not really.”

He’d been planning on continuing to yell, but with those easily spoken words his anger changed and he’d advanced on him, crowding him against the back of the couch and not sure he was bothered when he winced as he tried to move back only to be trapped in place. Grabbing him by the shoulder and seeing fresh blood oozing from the bandage on his wrist as he tried to push him away weakly, eyes narrowing in pain and actually crying out as his stupid broken bone failed to do anything.

“God you make me so fucking angr-“

“So what are you going to do, beat me up? Cause It’d be easy enough, maybe you’d even win, is that what you want? Are you so angry with me not looking after myself that you’re going to knock me the fuck out? I’m sorry, okay, is that what you want to hear?” He didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to hear himself saying what he wanted, to admit that he wished sometimes Mizuki would put his hands on him and just hurt him, would treat him the same as everybody else would. “I’m sorry but this time it wasn’t my fault! And last time it wasn’t either and it never is but even you can’t see that anymore!”

He’d managed to shove him off then, scrambling messily for the other end of the couch, hating that Mizuki wouldn’t let go of him, grabbing his arm hard, right over the bandage, fingers digging into the wound.

“God, you’re supposed to be fucking nice to me! Like you always are! That’s why Ren led me here! You’re not meant to yell at me like this is my fault when I had nothing to do with it this time! I was as scared as you, alright? I get scared too I’m not some fucking monster!”

Then it was silent, Ren was whining at his foot and Mizuki’s fingers were getting wet with his blood, teeth baring angrily as he wouldn’t even fucking respond and yanking his hand back so hard it hurt more, “get the fuck off me, you’re making me bleed again. What’s the point in fucking bandaging me only to try and mess me up again?”

“That’s not what I was trying to do.” Calmer now, but not to be trusted, like the sea right before a storm that came in two parts, the waves coming first to drown him in anger then the wind to tear him apart from the inside out, to make his eyes water with tears he couldn’t help and to leave him chilled all the way to the middle.

“Then what are you trying to do?”

“I’m trying to look after you! I’m trying to make you realise you’re worth something and that you don’t deserve any of this! I know this isn’t your fault but maybe it wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t such an idiotic slut!”

“You think I’m a slut?”

“Why were you even at Grime? Because it sure wasn’t for a fun night out with friends, was it? You probably got down on your knees for anybody who waved a couple hundred yen at you! You’d probably do it for free you love it so much!” Spite, malice, a strange hint of jealousy neither of them would ever deem worthy of acknowledging, spitting into his face even after he’d released him, pushing Ren away as he growled and bared his teeth the way he never had before, seeing Mizuki as a threat now.

“I’m not listening to this, where are my fucking clothes?”

“They were covered in blood, I binned them, maybe you can buy more with the money you earned.”

He ignored him, pushing away from his rage and stalking into his bedroom, knowing he was being followed but not caring, tearing open the wardrobe and stealing clothes at random because he knew Mizuki would have been giving him them anyway. He’d only just managed to pull a shirt on before he’d grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him round and knocking him off balance, fabric almost tearing where it pooled over his chest, one arm trapped in the material as Mizuki shoved him back onto the bed.

His hands were curled around his wrists and it hurt but he ignored that, feeling the warmth of fear beginning to flood him even though he knew this man and this place, had slept and fucked in this bed before, swallowing hard and glare flickering and fading. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get you to see sense, if you weren’t such a stupid, seducing whore nobody would dream of spiking you but you can’t keep your stupid fucking legs closed for one-“

He’d yanked him down by the neck then, and of course, as he’d anticipated, he was as bad as the rest of them, resisting his kiss for maybe a few seconds before his angry grip turned possessive and he was pinning his hips down hard, ignoring his injuries and if Sly could have smiled it would have been thin, reflecting Mizuki’s favourite emotion, _disappointment_.

 

* * *

 

But then it was over, and they were lying there in silence that Sly didn’t like for once, sweat cooling on them and regret heavy in both their bones, Mizuki’s arm slung over his waist and pressed too close into him, blood streaked on his sheets.

“I really fucking hate you,” he whispered, but it wasn’t true and they both knew it, Sly rolling onto his side and realising as his legs ached what a stupid idea that had been, that he should just have left, wiping himself clean with dirty boxers and yanking open one of Mizuki’s drawers, finding sweatpants and pulling them on. The shirt from before followed, bartender actually offering up a hoodie himself, sitting up and watching as he yanked it on, keeping the hood over his head and not turning round to face him.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Designs, updates, ficart and other things of interest- [here](http://minky-way.tumblr.com/tagged/intravenous-series)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist @ [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/minky-way/03-infected)

“Tio, hold up,” he turned as he went to push open the door to the bar, turning to see Kin jogging his way, raising a hand in a wave and looking a little red in the face as if he’d run further than just across the street. He seemed a little nervous but Tio was sure that was his imagination, hands in his back pockets and smile a little crooked the way it always was, “just wanted to catch you before work.”

“You’re working too? I thought you had tonight off?”

“Yeah, I’m meant to but Mizuki texted me because it’s really busy, I just wanted to ask you something before we got too busy to talk or I forgot or something.” Tio nodded then, smiling a little nervously, wondering what he wanted and Kin staring at him slightly too long before he realised it was his turn to ask and he laughed nervously. “I’m having a couple of guys round mine on Tuesday, gunna play some games, get pizza or something, have a few drinks, um, so do you wanna come?”

“Oh,” he was surprised, that was obvious, blinking because his secretive method of asking had made Tio half afraid he was going to invite him on a date or something and prove that he really did like him, not that there was any doubt in his mind of that. But he was relieved it was something like this, because he and Kin had been doing okay as friends, and sure it was a little awkward sometimes but it was nice to spend time with somebody new, nodding and smiling with a warmer expression. “Yeah sure, who else is going?”

“Okay cool,” he seemed a little too pleased, rocking on his heels, but there was something sweet about seeing him flustered, freckled face in a genuine grin and glancing at his feet for a second to hide his pink flushed cheeks. “Just Kouhaku and Yuu so far, I was gunna invite more but my place is tiny, so.”

“Alright, sounds like fun, but we better get to work before Mizuki gets overwhelmed.”

“Yeah, of course, after you,” Tio just raised an eyebrow at that, not mentioning that he was right by the door so of course he’d go inside first, just glad being in front meant he could hide his smile because he felt a bit amused by the whole thing, by the schoolgirl nature of how this seemed to be going, Kin’s obvious feelings really incredibly flattering.

 

* * *

 

But they had work and conversation died the second they got inside and met Mizuki’s expression, just screaming silently for help and only stopping to ditch their bags and jackets messily in the stock room before darting behind the bar to start the shift.

“Sorry for your wait, what can I get you ladies?”

They worked so well together that sometimes it unnerved Tio, who’d only ever experienced that with Mizuki before and after years of working together and being friends, it was odd how they never bumped into each other or needed the same bottle at the same time. It was like Kin memorised the orders he’d gotten, handing him the vodka the second he reached for it and moving away again to fill shot glasses with Jägermeister as Mizuki, in a moment of calm, filled glasses with energy drink, setting them up for him.

They were a well-oiled machine and so efficient that the crowd that would have taken Mizuki a good hour to clear by himself were gone in less than half of that despite the complicated cocktail orders and people ordering drinks for friends in one go. Mizuki had barely greeted them, just offering a vague, appreciative pat on the back or shoulder as he slipped by them to get what he needed, occasionally giving Kin a tip, ‘add a lemon slice,’ ‘buy five get one free on Jaeger-bombs’.

He didn’t manage to speak to Tio until at least an hour later, having sent Kin to slice and bring through more lemon and lime wedges for garnishing or shoving into the necks of beer bottles, the two of them left out front dealing with the occasional order and cleaning up any mess they’d left. Tio was finishing up an order of grandfather cocktails for a tall woman with hair cropped close to her head, thanking her for the generous tip as she smiled and left, when Mizuki finally spoke to him, scrubbing at a sticky spill on the countertop.

“Did you two arrive together?”

“Hm? Oh, no, he just caught me outside, wanted to ask me something.” He didn’t say what and after a couple of minutes Mizuki realised he wasn’t going to, bumping him with his hip and raising an expectant eyebrow, aware he was being evasive on purpose and very curious as to why. “He’s having people at his on Tuesday, invited me.”

“Oh yeah? What’s he doing?”

His nosiness was obvious, hiding it badly under fake interest, as if they were distant enough that they’d be forced to make small talk to avoid awkwardness, just rolling his eyes and flicking a lemon pip at him playfully. “Play games, pizza, beer, you know, ‘guys night’.”

“Hm, sounds fun. I assume you’re going?”

“Yeah I-“ He paused then as Kin’s ridiculous crop of floppy hair arrived back in the bar, distracting him as he realised he had one hand clamped over his eye and his fingers also seemed to be bleeding, Mizuki just gesturing for him to go see what on earth he’d done.

 

* * *

 

"How on earth, did you manage that?”

“I don’t know, I was just slicing it, then my hand slipped, juice went into my eye and I cut myself open,” he was frowning, cheeks pink with embarrassment as he lay back on the tattoo bench, Tio carefully pouring water into his eye to clear it, pressing a towel to the side of his face to catch the droplets.

“You’re pretty clumsy, I didn’t think you were the type.”

“Guess you don’t know me well enough,” his voice was teasing and Tio knew he couldn’t see his uncertain expression as he figured he was done washing out his eye, leaning in a little closer to check it, sclera a little red but otherwise okay, dabbing the skin around it dry carefully and only aware how close to him he was when he spoke and breath washed over his neck. “Your eyes are the exact same colour as mine.”

He moved back a little faster than he’d meant to, because he hadn’t intended to let him know anything was weird or that he felt odd being so close to him, feeling the warmth of his skin radiating onto his own. “Cool coincidence, huh? So how’s it feel?”

“Better now, really stung though.”

“Not surprised,” he moved back then, taking him in and looking at his cheek in confusion, lifting the towel to dab at his neck where it was still wet and examining the white material which was now streaked with a brown colour. “Not to sound judgemental or anything, but are you wearing makeup?”

He looked alarmed then, hand coming up to cover his cheek where Tio could now clearly see a difference in both colour and smoothness of the skin where the water had trickled, covered fast by his palm and averting his eyes politely as he saw the discoloured, mottled skin there. Visible cheek a little pink as he lowered his head and spoke, voice quiet and worried, “um, yeah… I, er, have like, acne scars, they’re pretty bad.”

“Ah, makes sense then, did you bring it with you?” He nodded and Tio made a point not to stare, turning to put the towel onto the surface beside the sink and worrying his lip because now he’d made him self-conscious and seen something he shouldn’t have. “Good, you can just put more on before you come back out front.”

“Yeah,” he still sounded stilted, fiddling with his fringe and watching Tio reach down the first aid box and turn back to him. “I, I know it’s kinda weird, like for a guy and stuff, I jus-“

“Nope, not weird. You know, once somebody told me I had really hairy arms so I shaved them for years, we all have our things.” He didn’t let him complain, just taking his hand to help him up and watching him blink in surprise, noticing suddenly there was something wet on his hand and he frowned, looking down to see blood beginning to dry on his palm and remembering he still needed to attend to his other injury. “Alright, let me see your hand. Honestly, I don’t think I should let you out of my sight anymore, it’s far too dangerous.”

“Guess I’ll just stick to your side then,” his tone was definitely teasing and it reminded Tio of something, thinking of when a line like that would have been followed by a tanned arm around his waist, low down, pulling him into a warm body and kissing him.

He just pretended to not be unnerved by the places his brain always went, smile faltering a little but flicking open the first aid box as it did, expression already steady and amused as he turned back with his handful of cotton balls, because that past was over now and he knew it, and this wasn’t Mizuki it was Kin and he was bleeding everywhere.

“Creep,” Kin laughed at that, a deep, belly laugh, and this time Tio’s smile was as real and as vivid as the blood on the bandages.

 

* * *

 

 So Tuesday came and he went to Kin’s and had to squish up next to him on the sofa and get jabbed by his knees when he crossed his legs and deal with his hand flopping over the backrest horribly near to his head. He ate pizza and played Mario kart and got yelled at for winning every time he played even though he knew Kin was letting him win. He called him out on it after his fourth beer when he was starting to get relaxed and didn’t even object to Kin all but putting his feet in his lap when he moved positions again on his pitifully tiny couch.

Then they put on a crappy film and they were demoted to the floor to keep things fair, and they sat there and mocked everything about the terrible acting and CGI and after a little while muted it altogether and improvised their own dialogue and Yuu laughed so hard beer came out of his nose. Kouhaku got too drunk and nearly threw up and they all mocked him relentlessly as he shoved his middle finger up at them and tried to remain upright even as he swayed and the night was announced as officially over.

Tio and Yuu accepted leftover pizza in plastic tubs and Kouhaku was picked up off the floor and carried away and it was just Tio left to say goodbye, finishing his beer off and lingering in the doorway, watching Kin clean up their mess and heading out to dump the pile of glass into the trash chute, clanging all the way down.

“Well that was eventful.”

“Guess I should have warned you about them, Kouhaku can’t handle his drink and Yuu is…”

“A handful.”

“Mm, that works,” he grinned, a little tipsy, stood there in an unfamiliar hallway at what had to be one am if not later, lingering on one side of the trash chute with Kin on the other, cheeks flushed with drink and hair having well and truly lost any semblance of style. “But this was fun, it’s been a while since I hung out with anyone.”

“We should do it again sometime,” he nodded then, not registering that ‘we’ could have two meanings, them as a group of four, or just the two of them, figuring that either would probably be okay as long as he didn’t get too drunk and do anything stupid like accept his advances. “Are you at work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m in all day doing piercings then working the bar at night too, I’m gunna regret drinking,” Kin laughed then, that deep tone that made Tio smile every time he heard it regardless of whether he actually wanted to or not, pausing a second later and smile faltering for a moment, biting at his bottom lip thoughtfully.

“I forgot you did piercings, I kinda want my septum done.”

“Oh yeah? You should come by, employee discounts pretty good. I think you’d suit it too.”

“Alright, I might do then. You want another beer for the way home?”

He debated this for a second, because sure he was a bit tipsy but he wasn’t quite as drunk as he could get and he knew another beer wouldn’t really hurt him, just pausing then nodding and removing himself from the wall, catching a sudden whiff of trash and grimacing. His fingers lingered on his for slightly too long as he handed the bottle over, icy cold and straight from the fridge, standing too close as he said goodbye and joked about him needing help walking home, sound of his laugh, softer now with the late night air, following him down the stairs he took two at a time.

 

* * *

 

 “Your two pm cancelled, so you can tell me _everything_ about last night.”

“You look like a girl out of a crappy film,” he just batted his eyelashes then, sticking his lips out in a ridiculous pout and pretending to twirl a lock of hair he didn’t have, utterly ridiculous and not realising it was the daft leaning forward, eager for gossip pose that had made him say it in the first place. “And nothing happened.”

“Nothing? So you went to his and absolutely nothing happened? You just sat there in silence then left?”

“For a start there were other people there, and for a second if you don’t stop being mean I won’t tell you.”

“So demanding,” but this time he was joking, ridiculous tone escaping his voice and retaining the same pose even as his expression neutralised and he took a sip of his drink, hopefully non-alcoholic at this time in the day though knowing Mizuki probably not. “Nah but seriously, did you have fun?”

“Yeah it was good, I’ve never really hung out with Kouhaku or Yuu before, they’re really cool actually but Kouhaku got way too drunk, Yuu had to carry him home.” Anything to distract him from what he actually wanted to ask, to put him off this weird gossip train that he knew probably wouldn’t end particularly well for him, annoyed when he brushed him off easily.

“Yeah, that happens. So what else? What did you guys do?”

“Nothing exciting, got pizza, watched a crappy movie, had a few beers. Oh, but we played Mario Kart and Kin totally kept letting me win.”

“Oh _really?_ ” Mizuki’s voice was that annoyingly knowing tone again, as if that was some strange slang for something debauched instead of being exactly what it said, “How interesting.”

“I called him out on it and then he won every game, to be honest I think I’m going to regret saying anything,” he just ignored Mizuki’s words, knowing it was better than responding and just getting irritated again, even if he was never that annoyed, in fact he liked this back and forth bantering between them, it was nice, safe, it made him feel happy that they were the way they used to be again. “But no I had a really good time, we’re going to do it again, maybe at my place so we can invite a few more people. Oh, but his place is really tiny right and he has this teeny sofa and at one point he basically had his feet on me and his socks were all holey and it was _so_ gross.”

Mizuki grinned at that, Tio too busy pretending to cringe at the memory to notice his eyes flicker to the door, voice floating in along with the topic of their conversation, a little sheepish and a lot amused as Tio looked up and of course it would be Kin, “guess I’m buying new socks after this, huh?”

“I- Well it wasn’t _really_ gross,” he tried to correct himself immediately, flustered as Mizuki snorted unattractively from next to him and Kin raised his eyebrows, seemingly enjoying his alarm that he’d heard him being rude.

He waved off his concern though, grinning and yawning behind one hand, “nah it’s cool, they’re all like that so it is kinda overdue that I get new ones

“Well it sounds like you both had fun anyway,” Mizuki’s gaze turned to Tio then, leaning in to examine his face as he moved back in alarm, trying to look displeased and not quite succeeding. “In fact you look a little hungover.”

“I am no such thing,” he frowned then, because to his knowledge he looked nothing of the sort, having showered that morning and ensured he’d been able to pass off his mild headache without customers being aware he’d been drinking the night before. Kin was shooting him a disbelieving look then and he rolled his eyes before admitting the truth,

“Okay maybe a tiny bit.”

Mizuki laughed then, clapping him on the back before excusing himself as somebody walked into the bar, smiling at her and waving a greeting, both heading into the back room to presumably look at the sketches in the book Mizuki tucked under his arm.

Then he was gone and Kin had leaned onto the bar, smiling lazily and his hair staying in place for once, presumably newly styled and smelling recently showered, not that he should be noticing that or trying to work out why he smelled like the sea. “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you regret drinking last night?”

“Hm, like a four?”

He inclined his head good naturedly, grin getting a little wicked and eyes glinting where they focused on him, rubbing one hand over the dark bag under his eye, looking tired, “Not too bad, just means I’ll have to get you drunker next time.”

“That’s a little creepy,” he knew that wasn’t how he meant it, but he still wanted to tease him about it, keeping his expression serious as if he was honestly unnerved by a comment he’d make to any of his friends with no double meaning whatsoever, tilting his head to the side as Kin’s cheeks flushed.

“True, sorry. So, are you free?”

“Free… for what?” He felt that horrible nervousness creep through him again because he’d been asked that before by somebody on the other side of the bar and it usually had connotations he’d rather not deal with at work. He could feel his palms getting sweaty because yes he was free in the sense those creepy, often lecherous customers meant, but he didn’t think Kin was the kind of person to be so straightforward. But then maybe the fact Kin apparently liked him was skewing his judgement, making him think he was asking something suspicious when really he just didn’t want to distract him with conversation while he was working.

“Wow you really were drunk, huh?” He’d leaned forwards onto the bar now, smiling at him warmly and perhaps a little too close to him for it to be anything but vaguely disconcerting, eyes tracing across his face somewhat ridiculously thoroughly. “I want my septum pierced, remember?”

“Oh crap yeah of course, you told me after the others had gone. But yeah sure, my double labia piercing cancelled on me.”

“Your- Your what?”

“Oh, it’s a vagina thing,” he explained rather flippantly, having lost his own embarrassment about such things remarkably early into learning to be a piercer, knowing he had to respond to demand and learn how to do intimate piercings like that, just biting the bullet to bring in more customers.

“Right, of course. No actually wait, why would anybody-“

“Want their genitals pierced? I have no idea but it’s worryingly popular lately, with guys too. Quite horrifying sometimes.”

He jumped a little then, having been too busy grimacing and recalling unpleasant situations in which he regretted agreeing to be a piercer in the first place, Mizuki’s voice speaking suddenly from beside him, having somehow snuck past. He was crouching to pick up a sheet of paper from the floor, presumably having slipped out of his sketchbook, grinning a little wickedly, “remember that guy who stunk so bad you had to refuse him?” Mizuki looked like the cat that got the cream and Kin looked remarkably queasy, regarding Tio’s disgusted expression with more concern that amusement.

“Don’t remind me, I nearly puked on him, which would only have improved things. But anyway, you ready now?”

“If you are.”

“I always am,” he almost anticipated Mizuki’s snarky remark, hitting him across the back of the head when he quietly muttered, ‘oh I bet you are,’ just smiling encouraging at Kin and leading him back into the small piercing room next to the tattoo studio.

 

* * *

 

Kin took a seat on the couch without prompt, watching Tio as he bustled around getting things ready, washing his hands and putting on gloves, setting out a metal tray with everything he’d need, explaining they only carried plain silver rings and Kin saying that was all he wanted anyway.

He ran through the boring things he had to, healing time and care routines and things like that, Kin listening properly unlike most customers he had, nodding and saying he’d already looked most of it up.

“Perfect customer then, most people come in with no idea it might take weeks to heal or that even if I do it perfectly it might still get infected or reject, nice to see you’ve done your research. Plus you’ve had piercings before, right?”

“Just in my ears, but yeah, got seven.”

“Eight, technically, industrial counts as two. Okay so you should be good then, and this isn’t a cartilage piercing so you should be okay pain wise, it’ll make your eyes water though, probably a lot.” He was cleaning his nose as he spoke, pausing for a second and remembering something.

“Do you wanna try out a fake ring first to see if you like it?”

“Nah, you said it’ll look good and I trust your opinion.”

“I’ll hold you to that, if you hate it afterwards you cannot blame me.”  
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The way he said everything was laced with such blind trust it always put Tio off a little, pausing to wipe the inside of his nose clean again before smiling and announcing he was going to do it, picking up his supplies in gloved hands and pretending it was just any other nose.

 

* * *

 

 He was good as gold during it, not doing more than crinkling his eyes when the needle slid through, inhaling sharply as he threaded the ring through and swearing under his breath, Tio smiling a little sadistically when he made a small whimpering noise as the ring was finally through and he just had to turn it to the right position.

“Okay, all done just let me clean this blood off and you can take a look,” he leaned in close again to carefully dab off the couple small spots of blood but this time he was aware of Kin looking at him and he felt a little self-conscious. He moved back then, about to grab the mirror but hesitating, observing his face, the earnest, open expression, the trust he could see there that was utterly illogical, the slight wetness of his eyes where they’d watered.

It was too quiet when Kin spoke, and he’d been staring for too long, his voice low and soft, “what?”

“I-“ His voice hesitated and quivered uncertainly and he had to clear his throat loudly, turning to grab the mirror and handing it over, smile too wide and unconvincing even to himself, trying to break the weird atmosphere he’d created, “it looks good, suits you.”

He pretended to be clearing up, ditching the used needle and other supplies into their corresponding bins, returning to Kin’s side with the intention of taking the mirror back, but something in his demeanour must have bothered him because he reached out and caught his hand in his own, frowning at him.

“Are you okay? You’re ac-“

He didn’t get to hear what he was acting, because the scrunching up of his face had made his fresh piercing bleed again and he must have felt the wetness because his words faltered even as Tio spoke over him, grabbing the glorified kitchen towel he’d used before and balling it up.

“Your nose is bleeding, hold still,” he was just concerned with clearing him up, lecturing vaguely about how he had to be careful or it would never heal, holding his chin to tilt his head back a little and using the very corner of the tissue to dab at the place where the piercing went through his skin. He frowned as he retreated with the now blood spotted ball, about to turn round to get another for him just in case it started again, when he’d grabbed his hand suddenly, turning back to face him in surprise and not even able to breathe before he’d moved forwards and kissed him.

He didn’t think he’d had enough time to even shut his eyes but then maybe he had because when he broke away only a second later he was staring at the ground, gaze meeting his identical blues a moment later and lips parted in confusion because that had come out of nowhere and sure they’d had some weird moments lately but both had been ignoring them and he’d been happy with them doing that.

It was Kin who broke the silence and he was so glad because his throat felt clogged and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to think of anything to say, watching him rub the back of his neck self-consciously, “sorry. You just, you look cute when you’re flustered.”

Like that the mood was broken, because he looked like he genuinely felt bad, cheeks very pink now and contrasting his freckles, pushing his dumb hair off his forehead only for it to flop back, chewing his lip as Tio sighed.

“Kin- I,” he didn’t know what he wanted to say, that he was sorry, that he kinda wanted to be kissed again but then that he knew that was stupid and selfish and more a passing thought of a lonely man than something he really knew he wanted. “Look, um, I- I think we should just be friends.”

“Yeah of course, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have even done that,” he was lying, he wasn’t sorry and they both knew it, he didn’t want to be just friends and he could see how much that must hurt, to be told that the person you liked wasn’t interested in you like that, to be crushed so easily.

“Just at first, I think we should be friends, before, before anything else might happen.”

His eyebrows had crinkled and he looked confused, understanding this was Tio’s way of saying that he couldn’t do this right now but that maybe one day he’d be able to, that he’d been relinquished to just friends but that it might not always stay that way. Managing a smile, “yeah, that makes sense. And you were right, it looks really good.”

“Glad you like it,” there was an awkward silence and his hand felt colder than it had before, pushing away the tingling of his lips and the uncertain swirling of his mind and managing a weak smile, glad Kin wasn’t being an asshole about this at least. “Come on, let’s get you paid up.”

 

* * *

 

 Mizuki was aware of the change in atmosphere the minute they arrived back in the bar, complementing the piercing and making some jokey taunts that neither of them replied to wholeheartedly, frowning as Tio awkwardly asked if he wanted to stay for a drink and he refused a little too fast.

“Got new socks to buy, don’t I?” He was trying to be funny, to bring the conversation back to when he’d arrived, before he’d done something impulsive and a little stupid, but it didn’t really work and Tio’s voice was hollow as he answered, sounding lost more than anything, like he’d been suddenly snapped out of his thoughts.

“Oh, yeah of course.”

“But um, I was thinking, I might do another guys night or whatever you want to call it next week, if you two wanna come?” He was speaking to both of them but his eyes were focused on Tio, flickering over both of them, reading every tiny personality shift and trying to work something out as Mizuki did the same, speaking on his behalf.

“Sounds good to me, but why don’t you have it at Tio’s? His place is pretty big so we could invite some more people, maybe some of the guys you don’t know as well?”

He was genuinely surprised to be volunteered, but he had said previously that he wouldn’t mind, and he guessed being on home turf might be nice, and besides, they’d agreed to be friends and he would uphold that, whatever happened later didn’t need to be thought about now. “Oh, yeah that’s fine with me.”

“Okay, so I’ll message you?”

“Yeah, see you.”

“Bye guys,” he waved as he left and Tio just knew Mizuki was frowning after him as the door shut and the sound of the street outside faded through thick wood, sure there were green eyes on him and not entirely sure he could deal with them right now, feeling a little too warm and sure his cheeks were pink.

“Okay, what happened?”

“I pierced his nose, I have to go get ready for my next appointment,” rude it certainly was, but he didn’t much want to talk to Mizuki now, he needed to be left alone for a while but he knew the head bartender was always a little too nosy, or maybe he thought it was caring, to leave him alone when he seemed bothered by something. The door opened behind him less than ten minutes later and he’d had no time to process anything by then, irritation seeping up his spine fast because he felt overwhelmed suddenly, refusing to turn around and hearing Mizuki shift uncomfortably on his feet.

“Tio, what happened? Don’t try and bullshit me you need to get ready, you don’t have an appointment for like forty minutes and you never prepare shit, what’s wrong?”

He paused in his pointless movements, shoulders tense and arms wired with nervous muscle, hunched over his counter, hands curled around the cool edges and squeezing too tight, exhaling long and more irritated than upset, air streaming out of his nose as his fingers faltered for a second and something in his hard pose broke.

His voice was strangely emotionless when he spoke, but Mizuki’s brow furrowed because his actions didn’t match his words and he couldn’t understand why, “he kissed me.”

Oh, well that hadn’t quite been what he expected but he really didn’t understand why he was acting so weird now, affixing a genuine smile onto his face and walking up to him, clapping him on the back in a congratulatory manner and voice pleased, “dude that’s awesome I told you he likes you!”

He didn’t push him off, but he could see from the hard set of his jaw that he wanted to, removing his own hand because he looked a little like he might snap and he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to see how that would happen. “Yeah, guess you were right.” But his tone was clipped and cold and Mizuki didn’t know how to proceed from here, just glad Tio was facing him now even if his smile was too tight and forced.

“Well, I mean isn’t this what you wanted? Something new? You like him right?”

It was too many questions, too much was happening and he could feel hot tension rising, reminding him painfully of that one time he’d punched Sly, praying he wouldn’t do the same to Mizuki because that really would complicate things. But then he looked up and his expression was so earnest, so genuine in his words and he felt sick because he was so damned wrong, he had no idea, he knew nothing about him and he was supposed to be his best friend, he was supposed to understand.

Shouting before he realised it and oh no he’d lost control of himself now and he needed to reign himself back in, knowing he wouldn’t be able to, “no, it’s not what I want it’s what _you_ want! I wanted- I- I want-“ His words failed him because they knew what he wanted and it was stood in front of him looking taken aback and guilty and daring to look offended, it was stepping forwards as if to comfort him and he wanted him nowhere near him, he wanted to get the fuck away from him. He wasn’t quite sure why he said what he did next, because if he told Mizuki to leave him alone he most likely would and he could stay in the piercing studio and ignore everything except his customers, but that wasn’t what he wanted. “I’m going home, fuck this.”

“Wai- Tio, you have customers! You can’t just go home!” That was his only objection, that if he left he’d have to deal with annoyed customers with missed appointments, that he’d lose his piercer, he didn’t care that he was stressed out and confused and overwhelmed, just that he’d lose a worker, and maybe that was all he was to him.

“Watch me,” he picked up his jacket then, from the table where the neatly organised piercing jewellery lay in tiny plastic tubs, yanking it on roughly and material bunching unevenly where it caught on his long sleeves.

“Tio, wait- Hold up you can’t just fucking walk out becas-“ He’d grabbed his arm now and pulled him nearer, anger in his face and wow, that was an emotion he’d never seen focused on himself before, knowing now that he was selfish, so damned selfish that he didn’t care about anybody around him.

“Yes I can! Call them and said I cancelled, or get somebody to cover, I don’t give _a fuck_ , now let go of me,” his gaze must have been strong enough for Mizuki to realise how bothered he was by this, expression falling and just releasing him silently, hearing him sigh heavily as he stormed out like a sulking child, bar door slamming behind him and just wanting to get somewhere he would be left alone.

 

* * *

 

 Then he tripped, and he was so done with the whole day he almost didn’t try to stop himself, but of course reflex kicked in and he felt his ankle wrench as he straightened himself up, ending up staggering down the last two steps like an absolute moron, tearing one hand on the dirty wall. It was honestly the last straw and if he’d been somewhere he knew he wouldn’t be discovered he might just cry because everything had gone wrong already today and nothing could get worse.

“Tio? Why are you sitting on the floor?”

But then again maybe things _could_ get worse, recognising the voice immediately and wondering what his chances of running away were, assuming they’d be low as he attempted to stand and sharp pain shot through his ankle. He just turned to see Kin, noticing the bag in his hand, from a small, basic clothing store a few streets from Black Needle, sighing and trying to smile only for it to fail as he grudgingly told the truth, “I think I sprained my ankle.”

“Seriously? Shit, how’d you do that? And aren’t you meant to be at work?”

“Yeah, I um, left. Me and Mizuki kinda fought,” he looked alarmed, glancing to the ankle he was rubbing carefully, stepping down to the bottom of the stairs where he sat, looming over him and looking concerned more than he should after Tio had essentially just rejected him. “I mean we argued, I just slipped on the steps.”

“Oh right, I thought you meant you’d actually had a fight,” he hesitated then and it was obvious, shifting from foot to foot nervously and still just staring at him, maybe taking in the flush of shame on his cheeks and the grit of his teeth. “Um, do you need a hand getting home or something? Or to the hospital?”

He didn’t want to rely on him now, to have to be dragged through the streets like the mess he increasingly felt, but he knew there was no way he’d ever get home by himself, or even back to the bar where he’d have to face Mizuki. He just lowered his head, rubbing at his temple where a headache was developing and avoiding the eye contact which Kin seemed to be a big fan of, unable to understand why he’d even bothered stopping.

“Yeah, I think I do. There’s a doctor a couple of streets away, they might be able to help. I- Sorry, I should have just stayed at work, now Mizuki’s pissed at me and I’ve sprained my stupid ankle.”

“You’re having a bad day, happens to the best of us,” he’d smiled then, bending down and offering a horribly familiar hand he had no choice but to take, balancing him as he stood shakily on one leg, gaining a little balance and shifting to lean on his bicep instead so he could stand straight and frowning down at his own misbehaving limb. “Can you put your arm around my neck?”

He just stared at him then, shifting his hand a little uncomfortably and sighing tiredly, exasperatedly because of all people to have rescued him, to be walking through that one, never massively busy alleyway, it would just have to be Kin. “Probably not, you’re like a foot taller than me.”

“Oh, yeah of course, I can crouch down a bit? Come on, let’s get you patched up,” he paused to let him position himself, hopping gracelessly into position beside him and wishing beyond anything that he didn’t know for certain Kin liked him now, because he slotted under his arm far too easily and he wasn’t sure he liked that. Their height difference wasn’t as much of an issue as he’d expected though, his arm round Kin’s neck as he bent over stupidly to support him, strong arm wrapping round his middle to keep him upright. “Okay?”

“Mm,” he nodded, because honestly he could hardly say no after all, pointing with his free hand to the street that led to the doctors, hoping he remembered correctly and that it was as close as he remembered and that they could help.

They walked quietly at first, Tio still stewing a little and perfectly happy to continue this journey in silence until they reached their destination, then to hobble inside with a thank you and see nobody else until he was forced to go back into work. But then Kin spoke and of course he did, voice a little tentative, guiding them to the left to avoid an overhanging pipe that would have smacked Tio in the head given how little attention he was paying. “Do you want me to text Mizuki what happened?”

“No, I’ll do it.” It faltered then, his speech, feeling his shoulders sag and almost certain Kin had just squeezed his waist a little tighter, a gesture of solidarity he supposed, he appreciated it a little he had to admit, managing a rueful, embarrassed smile. “I need to apologise anyway, I kinda went off on him.”

“He’ll forgive you, you guys aren’t best friends for nothing.”

“Hm,” but then he fell silent and this time words didn’t come as easily, because lately it felt like they were best friends on paper but nowhere else, so many understandings and stupid confusions of emotions criss-crossing them until they could barely refer to themselves as close.

 

* * *

 

They reached the main street much faster than Tio would have alone, and he was grateful for that at least, Kin making small talk and commenting more than once that he thought his nose was bleeding only for Tio to look and see he was mistaken. But then people started giving them curious looks, presumably taking in their closeness first before noticing Tio leaning heavily on one foot and wincing more than once as he tried to quell the embarrassment by walking normally only to hurt his ankle more.

He wasn’t usually the type to be embarrassed at all, especially not by an injury, but somehow with Kin at his side he felt like people were thinking things that weren’t true and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, wondering if the giggling girls thought they were a couple and muttering lowly as they finally got back into another quiet side street. “God we look so stupid.”

“Little bit,” he tried to shrug, Tio could feel it where their sides pressed together, having realised earlier that the pleasant smell he kept catching was Kin himself, his aftershave or something, really unnerved that he both recognised and enjoyed the scent. “I could carry you instead?”

“I will never speak to you again if you do.”

“Okay, not carrying you,” he tried to raise his arms in surrender before rapidly realising he couldn’t quite do that with an arm wrapped around his middle, helping him hop along in a remarkably ungainly manner, reaching a short set of stairs and pausing where they were. “But if you sprain your other ankle going up here I might have to.”

“Not. Carrying. Me.”

“Alright, alright, fine, come on, hold on tight.”

Mortifying, that was what it was, embarrassing, shameful, truly ridiculous, all but hopping up the stairs and realising it would have been a lot less stupid to just let Kin carry him up them since it would have taken all of one minute and he could have put him down immediately after. But the small living room doctors was only a couple of houses away and he knew soon they’d be able to detach and he’d hopefully be given crutches to limp home on alone, or maybe he could phone somebody else to help him, somebody whose skin didn’t feel so hot against his.

So he bid Kin goodbye and thanked him a rather inappropriate amount, muttering his gratitude and slinking off into the room he was waved towards by the bored looking receptionist who was presumably the doctors daughter, popping her gum obnoxiously and smiling too happily at Kin, feeling stupid, illogical jealousy bubble up in his stomach and squashing it down the second he registered it.

 

* * *

 

He was surprised by Kin again, for what seemed like the millionth time that day when he left the doctor’s office with a bottle of painkillers tucked into his pocket and two metal crutches hastily shoved under his armpits, to see him still sat there. In fact he was about to open his mouth and express exactly that when he stood, putting down the magazine he’d been reading and offering a smile, “I’ll help you get home, crutches are really hard to use.”

“Oh, thank you,” and there was a genuineness there he hadn’t heard in himself in such a long time, that he’d quite forgotten he was capable of, so when Kin held the door open for him with an amusingly over the top flourish all he could do was laugh and feel a little better.  
  
Finally, _fucking finally,_ they’d arrived at his door, Kin having walked up the stairs right behind him since he was wobbling all over the place and had almost fallen into him at least once.

“You’ve had the worst day, huh? A hangover, some creep coming onto you at work, yelling at your friend then spraining your ankle. It’s almost impressive.”

“You’re not a creep,” he supposed it was meant to sound exasperated, but it came out horribly candidly, both of them faltering for a second as his expression matched his tone, too earnest and almost offended that he’d call himself that. “You just… Misread the mood or whatever.”

“Hm, guess so. But anyway, you’ll be okay, right?”

“Mm, I’ll text Mizuki and get a few days off work, I’ve done worse before.”

“True, true, so I’ll message you about hanging out or whatever? Might be nice since you’ll be stuck in.” He was _nice_ , that thought struck Tio then, he was really, really, genuinely nice, not in the way some people were, where it was obviously put on because they wanted to get into his pants, Kin was nice to everybody, but especially to him, and it was a little pleasing to be coddled like this.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll ask a couple others if they wanna come too.”

“Awesome, so remember what the doctor said, rest, ice, compr-“

“Compression, elevation, I know, I’ll be fine.”

He smiled then, reassuringly, Kin just nodding his agreement and saying his farewells, taking the steps two at once and whistling tunelessly, and rather terribly, stupid hair swaying with each step. But it wasn’t him Tio thought about when the door shut, all he could do was stare at the old messages behind him and Mizuki, and think about how he’d yelled at him, snapped and been so shitty. Because, nice as Kin undoubtedly was, no amount of concern and friendly help could unwind every tendril of his brain from the image of Mizuki that rested there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Designs, updates, ficart and other things of interest- [here](http://minky-way.tumblr.com/tagged/intravenous-series)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist @ [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/minky-way/03-infected)
> 
> (whispers) i really love this chapter  
> also, it may seem familiar in parts to anybody who has read my MizuSly oneshot 'Dawning', I basically rewrote and expanded that one-off fic and put it here, so if my writing style changes its because some of it was written a while ago

Fucking in the bar had always been a risky idea, but they only did it when it was closed, obvious as that seemed, and the chances of them being discovered were about the same as if they did it in his apartment considering the fact Tio had keys to both. So he never tended to mind where Sly wanted it to ‘go down’, so to speak, the bar was fine and so was his apartment, just letting the other make his choice and going with it, not that he was given any chance to argue either way. But even though he said to himself after the incident where Tio had seen Sly in his apartment that they needed to be more careful, they weren’t, like horny teenagers who just wanted to fuck and ignore the consequences. It was fine though, it was going okay, at least until it all crashed down around their heads, or just the bartenders anyway, it was incredibly obvious Sly couldn’t care less.

 

They didn’t even realise he was there at first, or Mizuki didn’t anyway, but knowing how much of a crafty bastard Sly was he probably knew from the second he stepped into the room, just ignoring him and making things worse. And as they might have expected, given time to think about it, a good few seconds passed while he just registered what he was seeing and processed it in his mind, promptly dropping the bag that had been over his shoulder.

“I fucking knew it,” his voice was already shaking and so hard it was like ice even as they broke apart, one in confusion that rapidly morphed into horror and the other clearly just wanting to see how this would go down, looking too pleased for Tio to feel anything but pissed off. “Are you serious?”

His mind was still hazy with rough kisses and a knee shoved between his legs, feeling a little dizzy and incredibly confused, snapping into reality fast and realising that this was the most compromising position he’d ever been caught in. Sly was lying under him, one leg in between his and bodies pressed close together, bartenders hands, oh god, one was low down on his back, in the waistband of his jeans and the other was holding the back of his neck, pulling him in so their bodies were flush.

They’d been making out with such energy there was no denying that it was leading somewhere, bottle of lube on the floor making it all too obvious what they intended, only glad they weren’t actually fucking when they were discovered, because nobody needed to see that. His neck was throbbing where Sly had bitten and sucked marks into it and he could see Tio’s steely eyes focused on them, not looking him in the eye and nostrils flaring as he tried to control himself. He regretted removing his shirt now, feeling exposed but somehow only bothered by the fact that if they’d both been fully dressed then maybe he’d be able to lie and say he’d suddenly realised what a terrible mistake he was making, but oh no, he wasn’t that intelligent.

Not to mention that Tio wasn’t stupid, he’d added weeks’ worth of scratches and hickeys together with this debauched scene and come up with the truth, that Mizuki had been fucking Sly this whole time and lying to his face about it, betrayed more than anything else.

“Not that serious, no,” Sly remarked and oh his voice was so calm and utterly unfazed that for a second Mizuki was genuinely confused, then irritation set in, followed by fear and a sudden need to explain himself when he knew he couldn’t do that, didn’t even know how to begin. “Just a little arrangement.”

“Mizuki, you got anything to say?”

“It’s a one-time thing?” He suggested, but not only was it obvious that he was lying but it made everything worse, because Sly snorted from under him, fingernails still trailing over his back and making his skin prickle, being less than no help as was to be expected.

“Right, so you were going to fuck him today and then never again, was that the plan? Do you honestly expect me to believe that you haven’t done this before?”

“Oh he has, he’s fucked me lots of times,” Sly supplied, smile not even mean, just genuine and so fucking pleased with himself that Mizuki wanted to strangle him, and probably would too if he didn’t know he was into that.

“It’s not what it sounds like!” He tried, God was he trying to diffuse this, but the situation was getting worse and he refused to acknowledge the disbelieving raised eyebrow of his friend, expression only getting colder as Mizuki continued to lie to his face.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like. Your buddy here fucks me at least twice a week and has for like… A year now, it’s great. But then you’d know that, wouldn’t you?” That was a pointed barb and Mizuki could see the exact moment it hit, Tio’s expression flickering for a second only to come back even angrier and his nostrils flaring wildly with rage and hurt.

Mizuki’s face twisted into a glare as he turned to stare at Sly incredulously, because really, could he be more unhelpful? “I will fucking strangle you.”

Sly raised one blue eyebrow, and it was then Mizuki knew he was well and truly, and depressingly metaphorically, fucked. “Damn, you know just what I like.”

“Sly shut the fuck up or I’m banning you from the bar.”

“Yeah right, as if you’d do that,” he replied, confidence in his tone utterly exasperating.

“Don’t test me,” he hissed, trying to act like his face wasn’t bright red with embarrassment and sheer terror that made his limbs feel a million pounds heavier at having been caught.

Sly's voice changed into something almost threatening and the nails on Mizuki’s back turned vice-like, pressing into tanned skin hard and deliberately. “You know, it would be such a shame if somebody let slip that Dry Juice’s esteemed leader had been fucking Sly Blue, disastrous actually.” His smirk was cold and Mizuki knew he wouldn’t even hesitate to destroy his reputation the minute the tattooist did anything not to his liking. “Though of course your lovely admirer here might do it and save me a job.”

His cheeks were red and he felt nervous sweat break out on his forehead as he watched Tio’s eyes narrow at Sly’s words and oh Mizuki was _so_ going to murder him later for even suggesting that he might tell everyone as revenge, even though he’d be more than justified in doing so.

“So you are fucking?”

“We’re not fucking!” He exclaimed, horribly aware he was still straddling Sly and the erection in his jeans was probably painfully obvious, not able to bring himself to look down and check even though he could feel Sly’s knee rubbing against it every now and again, no doubt deliberately.

“We are,” Sly nodded calmly from under him, picking at his dirty nails absently and just smiling with false sweetness as Mizuki turned an expression of equal parts horror and disbelief onto him, more than a little tempted to just punch him.

He raised himself up so he was sitting, though still atop Sly who he deliberately elbowed in the chin on his way up, ignoring his curses as he turned towards Tio, who still lingered in the doorway as if uncertain of what to do.

“You know what, I knew he was scum, but you? I really thought you were better than that,” his words hit hard and Mizuki froze, face faltering because Tio wasn’t angry, he was hurt, and badly too, just grabbing his bag and storming out with a horribly loud slam as he almost kicked the door shut behind him. But still it took his muddled brain a moment to register what was happening, everything overwhelming him like being drowned in emotion, sweat turning cold on his body as he realised he had to go after him, he had no choice, he had to explain himself and to make sure he wouldn’t tell. Climbing off Sly easily and ignoring the others calls that they may as well carry on where they’d left off, hearing them echoing down the hallway and knowing that Tio would still be able to hear them where he hobbled along only a few steps in front of him.

“Tio wait, please just listen to me!”

“I don’t want to hear it Mizuki.”

But he’d never been particularly fast, and his still healing sprained ankle didn’t help him, Mizuki catching up to him before he even reached the back door, using a hand on his arm to spin him round and actually wincing as he took in the look of pure disgust on his face.

“Tio! Please, I know how bad it looks, just let me explain!”

“I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuses, Mizuki! I don’t want to hear any of it!” He shoved his arm off with such anger that it almost hurt, just ending up backed into a corner and boiling over with anger, swallowing hard because he felt like he was going to cry and he refused to do that. “You know what, I get it. Do you pay him too, like the others?”

“No!” He was taken aback, offended almost, did Tio really think he would be paying Sly for sex? The idea was one he had never even considered, “Fucking hell Tio, I wouldn’t do that!”

“So what then, you just do it because you want to? Or because you… You actually like him or something, because fucking hell Mizuki, that’s the kind of thing you tell your friends.” His face was hard but oh god his words were like daggers, thinking Mizuki had been lying to him, having realised he’d been hiding this for so long and feeling betrayed.

Mizuki paused, because he did like Sly but not in the way Tio meant, he was like a friend but even that was stretching it. They weren’t a couple, that was for sure, but he knew that Sly didn’t go with other people as often anymore, so they may as well have been exclusive. But liking him? No, not the way Tio meant. “No, not like that… We just have an arrangement. Friends with benefits, kind of thing.”

“Fuck buddies.” His voice was hard and he sounded disapproving, Mizuki missing the irony there as he just focused on trying to fix things that were unfixable and had been for a long time now, wondering if all this had even been worth it.

“I… Yeah, something like that.” He sighed long and deep, running a hand through his mussed up hair and cringing, he must look a fucking mess, he felt almost ashamed as he tried to smooth it into some sort of order. “Look, I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just kinda… Did. And then it just didn’t stop, I never thought about it. I… I didn’t mean for anyone to find out.”

Tio scoffed, and it was an ugly sound, turning to look away from Mizuki like the mere sight of him made him feel sick, and for all he knew, it well might. “God what is wrong with you?! You could get anybody, Mizuki. Anybody! But you’re fucking him? _HIM_?”

He couldn’t look at him, couldn’t meet his intense stare, see the hurt and disgust and misunderstanding there, addressing his words to his chest. They’d had a thing, once, got too drunk and woken up the next day a tangle of naked limbs and sweat, tried to make the fuckbuddies thing work and failed miserably after a few months. They’d managed to keep their friendship, but sometimes Mizuki thought he saw a flicker of something more in Tio’s stare, knew he still had the feelings and kept them hidden, but they sure as hell weren’t there now. The worst thing was, he knew what he meant but wasn’t saying, he meant that if Mizuki had wanted somebody to sleep with that he would have been right there, more than willing to start their arrangement again and try to ignore his feelings this time, to not spoil things. What he was really trying to show was his disgust, his displeasure, his _pain_ at knowing he’d chosen Sly over him, because anybody else he’d be able to understand, but not Sly, never Sly, that was an insult he didn’t appreciate.

“The only reason you’re explaining is because you’re scared I’ll tell somebody. You do realise what this could do, right? This could destroy you. The bar, your parlour, you could lose everything. Even Dry Juice, how many do you think would stick around if they found out about this?”

His breath was caught somewhere in his lungs and he felt lightheaded, because he knew, he knew what he was risking, knew how incredibly fucking stupid this was. But he wouldn’t stop, and that was the most fucked up thing of all. “I know, Tio. But nobody gives him a chance, he’s a teenager not a fucking Yakuza boss.”

“How old was he when this started? Seventeen, eighteen?” Mizuki knew what he was trying to say, he was breaking the law just by being with Sly, the age difference between them vast when he considered it was a fourth of Sly’s life time.

“Sixteen,” he almost whispered, because it was true, technically he was a paedophile, that was how the law would see it anyway, consent didn’t matter in cases like this, neither would Sly’s promiscuity.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Mizuki,” Tio’s noise of disgust hit Mizuki wrong and he bristled with anger because he wasn’t even letting him explain himself, just focusing on his hatred for Sly and not on his friendship with Mizuki.

“I know! I know, alright!” But now he was shouting and this wasn’t what he’d intended, he was meant to be making things better not getting angry and making everything spiral into a shit storm he couldn’t explain his way out of.

“Then stop! Break off whatever this fucked up deal you have is! Find somebody else to fuck if you really have to!” It sounded easy enough, but a lump rose in Mizuki’s throat at the thought of leaving Sly to go back to his old ways. Couldn’t picture how empty his life would seem without the blue haired boy’s visits to the bar and their snappy banter, knew, as fucked up as it was, that he would miss more than just the fucking.

 “I…” and his words were barely audible, just reluctant breaths leaving his hollow lungs. “I can’t do that.”

“He can look after himself, everyone knows that! Jesus Christ, half the team would probably fuck you if you asked!”

But no, he was wrong, so wrong. Sly couldn’t look after himself, he was too young, too hardened, too easy to exploit, to lure in with the promise of cigarettes and alcohol. He didn’t know the meaning of looking after himself, let alone how to carry it out.

He was about to reply, anger bubbling in his veins, when he saw Tio’s face harden, turning to look down the narrow corridor and glare at the footsteps that approached. It had to be Sly, and Mizuki cursed internally, because he had the worst timing and would no doubt only be here to make things worse to get kicks.

His breath hitched and his stupid, unruly heart did some kind of messy backflip in his chest as warmth covered his back and lips pressed against his cheek almost tenderly, eyes flickering to the right where Sly beamed, not quite able to hide the malice behind his actions.

“I gotta get going, _sweetie_.” He turned a smug smirk towards Tio as he spoke the endearment, sounding wrong and biting on his tongue, obviously used just to piss him off, tone turning a little sharp as he addressed him. “Always nice to see _you_ again.”

He was stalking off and shoving the door open before either of them had time to speak, Mizuki still feeling star struck, because, act or not, that wasn’t the first time Sly had kissed him like that but something inside him suddenly clicked into place and _fuck._

Tio’s glare faded as the unwelcome presence disappeared, door slamming shut behind him, turning his gaze back onto Mizuki, confusion clear in the way his brow furrowed and his mouth turned down at the corners, trying to blink away the wet in his eyes and expression faltering.

There was silence, and Mizuki couldn’t breathe, because he knew, Tio knew, and he wasn’t sure what he would do if he was questioned about it, because honestly? He didn’t know what to do now the idea had occurred, feeling sick to his stomach.

“Mizuki…” His voice was questioning, but the tattooist refused to look at him, eyes clouded with shame, because of all people, destiny had chosen Sly, it was like fate was fucking with him. An unsteady hitch of air accompanied his words, wetter than Mizuki would have liked and voice trembling like his world was falling apart. “Tell me you don’t fucking love him!”

He couldn’t help but feel dread when he used the word Mizuki had never dared apply to Sly, to put that word, that idea, out there in the world made it terrifyingly real and Mizuki’s hands were already shaking because this wasn’t fucking fair, why did this have to happen?

“Wow, you know I didn’t think you could make me feel worse. Looks like I was wrong,” ice wasn’t cold enough to describe his voice, angry mask faltering and nostrils hitching as his eyes filled with too much moisture to blink away.

“Look, it’s not like I can help it! You know that’s not how it works!”

“As if you have the fucking nerve, to say that to me now.”

“Tio, please just-“

“No! Mizuki, I’m not fucking listening! You know I came here today to apologise for yelling at you but I’m damn sure not sorry now! The only reason you’re trying to explain is because you don’t want me to tell, and you know what? I won’t, but only because I know you deserve better. Now get out of my fucking way.”

He moved, because what else could he do against so much emotion, so much negativity aimed at him from somebody who had never been anything but a perfect friend, force of his glare making him step back and cogs of his brain only lunging into action as he passed through the door. Following him out and grabbing his arm, because he didn’t want to leave things like this, not even caring that they were in the street now and people were looking, that he was shirtless and a mess and Tio was seconds from crying.

“Tio wait, please just listen to me!”

“I don’t want to fucking hear it! Get off me!” He wrenched his arm away with such force that a woman gasped from across the street, hands shoving him hard into the wall and not even registering that he wasn’t fighting back as his eyes finally overflowed with angry tears. “Just stay the fuck away from me.”

“Tio, look I made a mistake, alright? I’m sorry!”

“God, stop lying to me!” Everyone was watching now, the street had gone quiet except for them, arguing loud and with no concern for their neighbours, everybody was there to hear the sob in Tio’s voice as he said his final, cutting sentence, voice hitching and breaking. “I fucking _hate_ you.”

It had been bad up to then, but suddenly everything shattered and he’d moved forwards to grab him but he’d moved too far now and there was a crowd separating them, people assuming things, wrong things. They were adding together his shirtless body, the scratches on his back, the newly forming bruising of his tender neck, and Tio’s tears, his anger, and making assumptions he couldn’t stand, he could see the confusion, the realisation in their eyes, the unnecessary anger.

“What the fuck are you all staring at? Show’s over,” he hadn’t expected to sound that angry, because really he had no right to be, but he was, snapping out the words and a couple people actively flinching, watching a pillar of their community, a generous, helpful man, fall apart in front of their eyes. But their stares were too much and there were annoyed murmurs rising and he didn’t want to deal with any of it, to have to know Tio was out there somewhere, hurt and enraged and offended, to know all these people thought stupid things, thought they had some right to tell him how to live his life.

He’d run out of words, out of logical thoughts, not even wanting to defend himself, because if they were stupid enough to believe him and Tio were secretly dating and he’d been caught with somebody else he’d leave them to it, he was a bartender, not an educator. He just growled again, more of an annoyed yell if nothing else, kicking the metal back door open so hard his leg jarred painfully and the worn silver dented, crashing against the wall and bringing down chunks of paint and plaster with it.

"Well that went well," and those yellow eyes were on him again and rage had burst out his chest and he was pinned to the wall before he could do so much as move, his eyes had widened but for once he actually looked scared for a second.

“I hope you’re really fucking proud of yourself,” he was growling, spitting into his face and if it wasn’t worryingly arousing he might have realized he’d never seen the bartender this wild before, eyes blown wide and breathing hard like he’d been running, sweat beading across his forehead.

“Certainly am.”

“Pride comes before a fall, Sly, you should remember that,” he didn’t even question why he’d left then come back, almost knowing it had been to see Tio’s meltdown for himself then to return and gloat, to try and worm his way back into Mizuki’s good books as if this wasn’t entirely his fault.

“Yeah well, maybe I’m hoping the fall will kill me.” His smile wasn’t what the bartender had wanted to see, his calm words weren’t what he wanted to hear and he knew it even as he let him go, dropping the few inches to the floor easily and so tempted to throw a kick at him but just managing to ignore the urge.

“You are ruining my life, I hope you know that.”

“You haven’t exactly stopped me,” but that was the problem and both of them knew it, because Mizuki had been able to see this scenario from the moment their freakish friendship began, but the issue now had evolved from one four letter word to another. “Besides, he said he wouldn’t tell anybody, what’s the big issue?”

“He’s my best fucking friend, that is the issue.”

Sly just patted imaginary dust off himself as if his clothes weren’t always pretty dirty, yellow eyes narrowing for a second before returning to normal, tucking a strand of blue hair behind one ear and revealing an angry red mark, “you’re remarkably good at lying to yourself, bartender.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Work it out for yourself,” and with that last, venomous remark, he was gone again, leaving Mizuki to stand, chest heaving with anger, in his bar where everything had gone so wrong, as always, leaving the second there were pieces to pick up.

 

* * *

 

This was rapidly turning into the worst day of his life, his chest felt like it was being crushed and he couldn’t breathe, just limping away stupidly on his dumb fucking crutches, going too fast and stumbling too often, landing on his ankle and physical pain not enough to kill the emotional. All he could see were hands in blue hair and his best friend wrapped up in Sly Blue of all people, there was a repeating image of them kissing in his mind, he could see pale fingers running across tanned over and over and his eyes were wet.

His breath was coming too fast, escaping his lips wetly and ragged, tearing out of his lungs and he knew there was moisture on his face even as he made his way through the streets with his head hung and his bag banging his back with every frantic step.

He knew if he’d been able to use both legs fully he’d be running, he wouldn’t even know where to, but he’d just fucking run, until his lungs tore and shredded open and he coughed up warm blood, until all he could hear was his pulse in his ears. He’d run far away from asshole best friends and disgusting street scum with pretty blue hair and swollen lips and that damned pleased smirk like he was a million times better than Tio.

But his ankle still hurt and he was making it worse with every step, unable to run somewhere far away from everything, he had to go home, to his apartment and the four walls that would drive him crazy, he wouldn’t be able to be angry and throw things or scream even if he wanted to. He felt almost like he was having a panic attack, chest heaving and eyes blurring with more than just tears, electric spots dancing in front of his eyes and hands burning where they pressed into the hard plastic of his crutches.

How he even knew where he was going he wasn’t sure, muscle memory he guessed, sudden flash of sound bursting into his brain, a moan that was more of a laugh, breathy and low and something that spoke of fondness. ‘Don’t tell me you love him,’ but more than anything it was the resounding, condemning silence after that sentence that hurt, that made his brain scream with white noise so when somebody suddenly was in front of him he walked right into them.

He opened his mouth to apologise and his breath came out abruptly and hitching hysterically, and he knew it was obvious to whoever it was that he was nowhere near to being okay, wanting to say sorry and to leave, to not care about good manners.

But then they spoke and the noise of his mind quieted for just a second and he felt nothing at all, “Tio? What happened?”

But no, that voice, that person right now was more than he could deal with, suddenly, instantly overflowing with anger and bitterness and just the fucking unfairness of it all, and he knew even before he turned that he was going to do something stupid. “God, why won’t you just leave me the fuck alone? Do you not get it yet? I’m not fucking interested so stop trying and stay the hell away from me!”

He only stayed long enough to see his expression falter and die, horrified to see how naked it left him, always friendly smile and those caring blue eyes suddenly filled with hurt, laid bare for him to see. But all he could do was curse his stupid ankle because now he couldn’t even run away from everything, he was doomed to shuffle away in the most undignified manner possible, knowing he’d reached for him in the second he stepped out of his range, leaving him there, offering his help to somebody who didn’t want it, couldn’t accept it.

The last person he needed now was Kin, as much as he might know being alone was really stupid, Kin was weirdly involved in this, in him, and he needed everybody who had feelings for him or he’d ever had feelings for to be far, far away.

So he made it to his apartment and ignored the stares and pretended he didn’t hear his nosy neighbour across the hall asking if he was okay with genuine concern in her elderly voice, he just slammed the door and sunk down onto the floor and burst into noisy, stupid tears and felt like a child.

 

* * *

 

Oh god, he wanted to die, and not just because of the awkwardness that filled the entire bar, even the customers noticing something was wrong and muttering among themselves about the fights they’d seen or heard about. No, he just felt like dying in general might make everything a damn sight better, then Kin could find somebody who wasn’t a complete asshole, Mizuki and Sly could be happy together and they’d forget all about him soon enough.

Dark thoughts followed him the whole shift, trying to not notice how distant Kin was being, ensuring their fingers didn’t touch when he handed over a bottle and making sure not to so much as brush against him when he slipped past him. But then the shift was over and everybody had gone and it was just their weird threesome left, like a bizarre love triangle where none of the arrows met up.

“Can you two close up? Please?” He tacked on the good manners as if he had any right to be anything but perfectly fucking lovely to Tio, just waiting til he nodded stiffly, not staring at him, Kin pretending he didn’t notice the full bottle of vodka tucked into his palm as he headed upstairs.

But then his eyes were brought rapidly to the left, where Tio leaned against the counter heavily, as if it was the only thing keeping him upright, black eye bags dragging him down and cigarette smoke trying to suffocate him as he shoved the lit smoke between his lips.

He wanted to ask what had happened, with Mizuki, with them, with everything. Their growing friendship seemed to have shrivelled and died within minutes and as angry as he knew Tio had been, he couldn’t help but wonder if the words he’d yelled had been his true thoughts.

Then the silence died and for the first time in what seemed like forever, blue eyes had met his own and held his gaze, not looking away in shame or anger or whatever was going on behind the pale mask of his face. But they had to break, Tio just sighing loudly and reaching into his pocket to proffer his box of cigarettes, knowing Kin didn’t often smoke but doing the only thing he knew to try and show some kind of solidarity, or apology.

“I… I guess you want to know what happened.”

He just shrugged, lighting the cigarette and exhaling smoke up into the air, watching it fade into nothing, as fragile and fading as everything seemed these days, “if you want to tell me.”

Tio’s breath stopped then, hitching for a second as he almost choked on smoke, because he was being nice again, almost too nice, considerate and cautious to not further hurt already dented feelings, Tio really felt he didn’t deserve any of it. He was still acting like he hadn’t been yelled at in the street, told to fuck off, accused of being some kind of creep who was only friends with Tio to try and eventually get into his pants when it was nothing like that. Acting as if they hadn’t been doing great before that, like he hadn’t sat on Tio’s couch and watched him try to catch popcorn in his open mouth and miss almost every single piece, hadn’t stayed behind to help pick it up off his carpet. Like they hadn’t been doing just fine as friends.

“I don’t think me wanting to has much to do with it, it’s more like you deserve it after I yelled at you like that.”

“You were angry, it happens,” he sounded like he really believed it, beginning to put tops back onto their corresponding bottles, screwing them on neatly with one hand and careful not to get ash on the sticky counter where they’d mixed drinks.

“Not to me,” Kin frowned then, opened his mouth to ask what exactly that meant, because he was sure he’d said exactly the same thing to him before, wondering why he didn’t allow himself to get angry. “But, listen, I’m going to tell you everything, okay? You can’t tell anyone,” he opened his mouth to speak, presumably to agree, but Tio just shook his head and kept speaking. “I know, I know, you won’t, but this is serious, you’ll want to tell somebody. It’s not what you’re expecting. So you have to promise not to tell anybody, this could ruin everything for him.”

“Okay, I won’t tell. I swear.”

“Good. I… You know he’s been fucking someone?” He just nodded, because everybody knew, Tio himself wondering why he was still worried about the bartender’s reputation when all he’d done was hurt him, his stupid decisions were on Tio’s conscience now and as much as he hated it, he refused to ruin Mizuki over something this idiotic. “Well I caught him with them. I mean that’s not really the bad bit. Well I mean it _is_ , obviously. But it’s who, he’s been fucking.”

“Is it somebody you know? A team member?” He looked concerned now, understandably, because if Mizuki had been sleeping with one of Tio’s friends it would be a damn sight more painful than if it had been with some stranger as everybody had assumed. In fact now Tio thought about it he realised it could easily have been a Dry Juice guy, they would have just needed to stay quiet whenever they joked about it or to join in, and nobody would suspect a thing.

“No, I wish it had been. It’s um…” His voice choked a little on the name and he had to cough, smoke catching in his lungs and the name slipping out easier than his own, the name, the face that had been swirling around his brain constantly, this secret, now shared with another and the weight halved. “Sly.”

He paused, cigarette halfway to his lips and staying there, ash falling off and streaking down his jacket, frowning before turning with an incredulous expression to regard him, mouth open as if in complete befuddlement, obviously not believing him. “Sly?”

“Yes.”

“As in, Sly Blue?” He just nodded, shrugging a little apologetically, because he had to admit that at first he thought he’d been having a bad hallucination when he’d seen the boy and the bartender wrapped up together, but it had been no mistake and he needed Kin to believe him. He laughed then, a small, uncertain huff of amusement that died as Tio just stared at him, worrying his lip between white teeth, not suddenly announcing it had been a joke or laughing at his stupidity to believe it, just watching him react silently, tensely. “You’re not serious?”

“I wish I wasn’t. I- It’s been going on for a while, over a year apparently. I caught him in Mizuki’s apartment once, he lied, told me he found him unconscious after breaking in and had looked after him, fed him and stuff. I figured he was being too nice, I just told him not to do it again.”

There was silence again, terse this time, Kin trying to work over this new information, this overload of facts that were so unbelievable yet which he believed, knowing now that Tio wouldn’t have gone to these lengths for a prank, wouldn’t look so worn down and exhausted. “So- I don’t get it, why would he be sleeping with Sly?”

He smiled, ruefully, staring at his cigarette, not trusting his expression enough to let Kin see it, not this close up where he’d be able to see the unsteady flaring of his nostrils, “I think he loves him.”

“Huh, what makes you think that?”

“I asked if he did, he didn’t say yes, but he said I should know you can’t help things like that, so it’s as good as a yes.”

“Mm, it must have sucked, seeing that,” his voice was softer and suddenly that wetness was back in Tio’s throat, because it had been worse than that, it had been horrible, like his lungs had been ripped out of his chest, like every synapse in his body was sparking with agonising pain. He just swallowed and nodded though, it didn’t need to be spoken about and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to speak about it even if he wanted to, Kin had moved a little closer but he didn’t mind, he knew he was forgiven already and was just glad he was trying to understand, had surprisingly not judged or accused him of lying or freaked out. “Sly, huh? What an insult, you’re way cuter than him.”

“Creep,” he muttered it out the side of his mouth, like he was reluctant to speak, but he was smiling then, Kin nudging his shoulder playfully, supportively, and handing him a damp rag, taking the brush himself and walking out to the other side of the bar, Tio a little surprised the conversation had ended there.

“Sure am, but um, I know a twenty four hour coffee place, if you wanna go after this? Talk about it, or not? You’ve been stuck in a while, I guess you haven’t had anybody to talk to.” He seemed reluctant for a moment, then Kin played his winning card and he nodded, stubbing out his cigarette and feeling warm as the embers. “They do amazing caramel hot chocolates, and mochi.”

 

* * *

 

“Go sit down, I’ll handle this, okay?” He was in no state of mind to object and he had a feeling that was why Kin had offered, pushing away thoughts that letting him pay was a little too date-like to be normal and just glad to have somebody willing to still spend time with him when he was so awful lately. So he left Kin to it and hobbled over to a secluded booth that couldn’t quite be seen from the counter, sliding right into the corner and his crutches falling noisily onto the floor, no other customers to be bothered as he carefully put his feet up on the cushioned seat opposite.

His eyes were closed, head resting against the velvety back cushion of the booths when Kin returned, tray in hand and his furrowed brow of worry not quite dying before Tio opened his eyes to regard him, thanking him quietly and regarding the drink pushed his way. It was amusing, because with their matching drinks, topped with whipped cream and chocolate powder, this could almost be a date, only the context and the sheer exhaustion on Tio’s face would prove an observer wrong.

But luckily there were no observers and nobody was there to see his nose crinkle and his eyes threaten to water again when Kin silently slid over a plate of strawberry mochi, just letting him remain in peaceful silence for a moment, spooning cream into his mouth and deliberately not staring.

It took him a minute to gather himself, to reach forward for a piece of the mochi, chewing thoughtfully and only realising then he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, almost twenty four hours ago now and hadn’t even finished his toast then. The hunger hit him suddenly and he squirmed up into his seat, Kin shifting to the side a little to allow his feet room to move into a comfortable position, scooping cream off his sweet hot chocolate and letting it dissolve on his tongue, cocoa powder bitter and gritty against the roof of his mouth.

“How’s your ankle doing?”

“Mm, it’s okay, should be alright to walk on again in a couple weeks I think,” his answer took him a moment to think of, out of practice in speaking, having been silent for what felt like weeks, only talking when he really had to, existing in silence. He couldn’t remember the last time somebody had asked about how he was doing, even before he injured himself, let alone the last time Mizuki did, too self-absorbed to care.

“That’s good, I sorta assume you didn’t get to work things out with Mizuki then?”

“Well I did plan to, but then I walked in and he was otherwise occupied, so I didn’t quite manage it,” he hadn’t heard himself this way in a while, bitter, cold, speaking calmly but unbridled rage bubbling under his coolly spoken words, Kin’s brow furrowing. “Not that I want to now.”

“Are you more upset that he didn’t tell you, or that it’s Sly? Or that he actually likes him?”

“Can I say all three?” He’d taken a mouthful of the hot chocolate, and despite how delicious and sweet it was, it burned all the way down and he coughed into his fist, tang of salted caramel lingering on his tongue once the raw sensation faded.

“Course, if that’s the truth.”

“He- I just don’t get why he didn’t tell me, I mean, it’s not like I would really have freaked out if he’d just sat me down and explained, it’s his fault I did. I had to walk in on them to find out, he never would have told me, he never tells me anything.”

“He’s not as perfect as he seems, huh?”

“Not even close,” he’d laughed, but it wasn’t funny, nothing was, well, maybe Kin’s cream moustache was a little, deliberately not mentioning it and watching with amusement as it remained for a good few more mouthfuls of his drink, talking in quiet voices about things that deserved to be screamed about.

 

* * *

 

He was drinking too much again, he was aware of that even as he poured a fresh drink, focused half-heartedly on the show playing on the TV, some marathon of a show he used to love but had lost time for, had let fall to the wayside like so many other things had. The images blurred and merged into one and he’d lost the ability to care about the story a long time ago, watching a character he’d once liked crack a joke and not even smiling, not sure he even understood it through the haze in his mind.

His recycling bin was getting full of empty cans and bottles, mainly of spirits, though he’d started this downward spiral with beer and ciders, but the bubbles in them made him throw up and wine made him unbearably warm so he’d switched to something stronger. A bottle didn’t last long now, he’d get through a litre bottle of vodka in two nights, sometimes less, it depended on how bad he felt and how exhausted he was, how long he’d lain in bed and tried to sleep.

It was like his brain just wouldn’t get the message to shut the fuck up, rather like Sly, who kept turning up at his apartment like both of them hadn’t suddenly had the reality of this shoved roughly into their faces, like Tio didn’t know. Wasn’t that just another problem? Tio. He hadn’t spoken a single word to him since he’d stormed out the day he’d discovered them, he’d been quiet and awkward around Kin too and Mizuki wasn’t stupid, or drunk enough, to think those two things weren’t related in some way.

So he either stewed in thoughts and didn’t sleep at all and went to work grumpy and exhausted, or he drank from the moment he got in, passed out on the couch and woke up with a hangover he’d had enough times to be able to fix. It was a little ironic, because sometimes in his drunken states he half expected Tio to come barrelling through the door with a displeased smile and scold him for drinking so much, to put him to bed and frown at him like his mother. But of course Tio couldn’t care less if he was on a steady slope to alcoholism and it just made Sly’s job easier because he never had to get the bartender drunk when he arrived these days, he was already.

He knew how the night would end, he’d order pizza after a couple more drinks, ignore the delivery guys knowing expression as he took it and almost inevitably staggered a little as he removed a hand from the wall to wave his farewell. He’d only eat a couple of slices, he had the rest for breakfast and throughout the rest of the day usually, then he might just manage to shower though that was unlikely and usually came the next day too, then he’d flop into bed and dribble all over his pillow in the night.

It was depressing, how every day had become the same, and he realised it scared him a little, not even having the strength to be angry at Sly whenever he turned up, a couple of times a week as normal, if anything he was a little grateful that some routine had remained. Though he could hardly call fucking Sly routine with how different it was every time, sometimes he’d been so drunk the next day he only remembered as he traced over scratches on his chest or examined his stinging, bruised neck.

Sly was the closest thing he had to a friend now, and he’d known from the beginning that this could only end badly, but he hadn’t quite estimated how badly, and now he sometimes, in horribly sober moments of lucidity, wondered if maybe he would have been happier to have been alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Designs, updates, ficart and other things of interest- [here](http://minky-way.tumblr.com/tagged/intravenous-series)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist @ [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/minky-way/03-infected)

Things weren’t going well, but then that was to be expected of course, although Sly had to admit that things were going perfectly fine for him, or as fine as they could be anyway, having already dealt with the whole ‘murderer’ thing quite neatly and people back to hating him just for being a pest as usual. So it was the usual routine of waking up cold and grouchy, smoking a few cigarettes as he splashed icy water down his face and went into his pathetic excuse for a food cupboard to grab something that wasn’t covered in mould or on its way to being riddled with maggots. Then onto the streets and sometimes to work even in the daylight, knowing which shady alleys were ideal for finding the kind of scum who wouldn’t care enough about getting caught and would just hand over a few crumpled notes and let him get to it.

He tried to get one decent meal every day, sometimes he had to steal it, but luck had befallen him a few nights before, having come across a guy so drunk he passed out in the middle of the street, easy pickings and Sly pinching his wallet without so much as a punch. So he went to the one place he knew would actually feed him, an oden stall where gang members and the rougher members of society went for a cheap bowl of something hot, picking up the stuff in a plastic container and a stick of takoyaki balls too.

His stomach would be grumbling like crazy by then, too late in the day to be either lunch or dinner, just heading home the safest way he could, not wanting to be bothered now he finally had food, avoiding everybody he saw and slinking home. So back to his mattress, disposable chopsticks clenched in his hand and slurping noodles into his mouth so fast he always felt sick after, not used to being so full and drinking down the broth slower, savouring the taste and the comfort a full stomach gave him.

He almost always napped then, not necessarily intentionally, but the days were beginning to get darker earlier and so his best times to work were increasing almost every day, his swollen stomach and temporary warmth always lulling him back to the abyss he so craved.

 

* * *

 

But on the other side of town, in a decent sized flat in a much nicer area, things weren’t running as routinely as they should be, pristinely clean kitchen tiled in soft coffee and cream colours being entered a little abruptly, door banging in it’s frame as it closed behind it’s occupant. In fact far from things being peaceful, something akin to an argument was breaking out as Tio disagreed with the man on the other end of the phone line, frowning even as he hastily watered the pot plant on his windowsill.

“I’m not going.”

“Seriously? Come on, Tio, you can’t let this stop you seeing your friends.”

“I’m not, I just don’t want to go to the bar,” he shrugged even though Kin couldn’t see him, opening his fridge and finding a can of fanta easily, cracking it open and closing the door as he listened to him respond, picking up his coil and carrying it through to his living room. His argument lacked logic and he knew it, because seeing his friends involved going to the bar, so to not go was to actively avoid them, knowing Kin knew that and just hoping he’d drop it and leave him alone.

“It’s Kouhaku’s birthday, somebody has to look after him when he gets too drunk again.”

“Yuu will be there.”

“Tio,” he sounded exasperated now and there was something amusing about his tone, speaking like you might to a petulant child, changing tactic a second later, voice earnest at first but growing increasingly self-pitying as he continued, Tio raising an incredulous eyebrow at the coil his voice filtered out of, a little tinny and distorted. “At least come to keep me company, I only know Kouhaku and Yuu, and not even that well, and they’ll be celebrating, I won’t have anybody to talk to.”

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“Maybe,” he sounded amused and Tio rolled his eyes, annoyance fading because he’d never really been that vehement about not going, how much Kin wanted him there was a surreal mixture of flattering and unnerving that he wasn’t quite adjusted to yet. “But come on, you don’t even have to talk to him, or look at him, everybody will miss you.”

“Everybody, or just you?” He hadn’t meant to verbalise that but Kin didn’t so much as miss a beat, Tio sure he could hear the low hum of music in the background, wondering what he was doing even as he knew he’d cave and agree.

“Everybody, so, are you coming or not?”

He pretended to be debating it for a while, pausing and hesitating, humming noncommittally before he thought it through, thinking it would really be a far stronger statement to go and just blank Mizuki than it would be to hide away at home. “Fine, but I’m not arriving by myself.”

“Yeah, yeah, I pass yours on my way anyway. I got a shift at the café, I’ll see you later?” He didn’t bother questioning how Kin had always somehow known where he lived, he had a valid reason now after all, having helped him all the way to his door due to his misbehaving ankle, bandaged foot mocking him as he propped it up on his coffee table.

“Mm, see you later.” Then he hung up and Tio was left to regret his decision, because Kouhaku’s birthday or not, he didn’t want to be within a million miles of the bartender, let alone in his bar.

* * *

 

So he’d met him at his door as promised, a little later than Tio would have done but meaning that by the time they got to the bar, able to walk without crutches now but having taken them as a precautionary measure, it was so full and bustling they were barely noticed. In fact knowing Kin as well as he did now, he was positive he’d timed their arrival deliberately, Mizuki pleasingly distracted pouring a long row of shots, some horrific yellowish liquor from a bottle he didn’t even recognise.

But still, he let Kin lead the way, following after him and smiling at those sober enough to greet him, noticing eyes on the crutches he half-leaned on, wondering what Mizuki had told them about his absence. But then he worked out where he was being led and froze in place, expression darkening and losing track of the guy who’d just patted him on the shoulder, “I’m not sitting there.”

“Huh?” He seemed remarkably distracted with the automatic way he’d grabbed his hand at first, fingers twitching a little in his and Tio allowing the contact to linger a little too long because he knew Mizuki was watching now and he felt sick. It was like they were causing a scene and he didn’t much like that, glancing up with anxiety building in his stomach and green eyes averting from his too fast. “How come?”

“I’m just not,” and that was all the response he got, shrugging and letting Tio lead them to another couch instead, a smaller one this time, watching the twitch of his lip when the surface Kin had been leading them to became occupied by other people, eyes narrowing.

“Is- Is that where you caught them?” He kept his voice at a low murmur but Tio’s nostrils still flared as he spoke, swallowing and just nodding once, tensely, Kin exhaling in understanding and moving a moment later, clapping him on the shoulder in such a friendly, casual way he jumped. “I’ll go get us drinks, guard our couch.”

 

* * *

 

“I know you’re not going to like this,” Kin began some time later, and Tio felt that familiar ice of nervousness creep slowly up his spine, looking away from his beer to his friend, regarding the others in the room quietly, knowing there’d been an odd tension in the group since they’d arrived, though copious shots and drinking games had dulled it a significant amount.

“Then maybe don’t say it.”

Blue eyes met his though and he knew he was going to anyway, turning into the couch they shared a little more so he could hear him over the noise better, deliberately ignoring where Mizuki was dishing out more shots at the bar. “You need to talk to him.” He closed off instantly, going to turn away and refuse to listen to any more, but Kin had guessed that, gripping his wrist before he could so much as move an inch, just taking in the hard set of his jaw and the still lingering hurt in his eyes. “No, listen to me. You guys have been friends for a really long time, even if he is a shit one.”

“He’s not _shit_ ,” but he didn’t even quite believe his own words, frowning as he wondered why it had been so hard to deny what he’d said, glancing calmly at him where he sat on a barstool, watching a very enthusiastic arm wrestling competition and laughing along with the rest.

“Well whatever, not only that but he’s your boss, you work with him, you need to at least get to a level where you can be civil.” He was talking sense and not only Tio knew it, somebody he didn’t recognise, a new initiate, walking past and accidentally overhearing, glancing from Mizuki to Tio with an understanding sort of expression. “Besides, didn’t you say if he explained that maybe you wouldn’t be so mad? Maybe you need to give him the chance to.”

“I’ll think about it.” That was all he could offer and Kin just nodded, taking his empty beer a second later and crossing the room to retrieve new, the two of them losing their isolated bubble a little later as they were drawn into a rowdy game of ring of fire. He pretended he couldn’t see people looking at him funny, having heard about his public breakdown a couple of weeks prior, making their own assumptions, thinking the events of the past had repeated themselves. He pretended he couldn’t see Mizuki, lingering by the bar and excusing his lack of involvement with tiredness, making jokes about ensuring his bar didn’t get trashed, pretended he didn’t notice his eyes narrowing in confusion as a rule forced him to keep his armpit touching Kin somewhere for the rest of the game and he just questioned them with a laugh.

“My armpit?”

“Yeah, yeah, your armpit!” Yuu was drunk, swaying a little, but then it was his best friend’s birthday so it could be excused, Tio turning to Kin with a frown and wondering how exactly he was meant to do that. Then somebody all but crashed into his back and he folded in half, nearly smashing his chin off the floor he was forced down so hard, turning the moment the weight disappeared and suitably horrified to see Kouhaku, the birthday boy himself, passed out on the ground behind him.

There were raucous calls from the others, “he’s had too much to drink!” Generally laughing and amused, nobody too worried and Tio just adjusting his back, uninjured and somewhat glad he’d at least landed on something soft, even if that had meant landing on him.

“Well shit,” Kin remarked with such serene calm Tio wondered if there was something going on he didn’t know about, just sitting there and feeling bewildered as a couple of guys who weren’t playing the game bodily dumped his unconscious form onto a couch, propping him up on his side and gesturing for them to continue.

 He just pretended, but it wasn’t hard, he was getting quite good at it.

 

* * *

 

“New rule! You have to drink with your left hand, drink with your right and it’s a three drink penalty!”

The new rule didn’t bother him, at least until it came his turn to drink and he rapidly realised his arm was still around Kin’s shoulders, the only way he’d been able to devise to fill the constraints of the other rule placed on him. His left hand was somewhere over his shoulder, a long way away from his mouth and utterly unusable, pausing and realising they’d done this on purpose to fuck with him, Kin asking with genuine curiosity what would happen if somebody else held Tio’s drink for him, resigning him to a night of being treated like a baby.

“You’re all bastards,” then they laughed and he kept his arm round Kin until the game was over and Hayato had vomited everywhere and the night had been deemed over, them all staggering into the street to make their way home through chilly night air their drunken skin couldn’t quite feel.

 

* * *

 

Then he was home and in his quiet, cold apartment, and it was either the alcohol bravery, or maybe stupidity, that had him reaching for his coil and opening his messages to Mizuki, typing a new one with only a little trouble. Well that was a lie, he was sat on his toilet seat lid, for some reason he couldn’t quite fathom, with one eye scrunched shut and his face inches from the holographic keypad on his coil, typing and re-typing to fix all his spelling mistakes.

‘I need to talk to you.’

He replied so fast it was like he’d been waiting for it, but then maybe he had, he’d kept turning baleful, guilty green eyes onto him and Kin all night, and tiring as it had been to avoid looking, he still felt kinda bad for making him feel so pushed aside. ‘I know. Tomorrow night, at mine?’

‘Will you be alone?’ The question was pointed, and he wondered how different the response would have been if it had been asked in person, the simple, one word response not showing any kind of emotion towards him.

‘Yes.’

He hesitated before typing what he did next, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to deal with the response in person, probably wouldn’t even be able to get the words out, rubbing at stinging eyes and feeling horribly queasy, ‘do you love him?’

He’d expected to have to wait, so he pottered around, leaning over the sink and wondering if he’d throw up, washing his face when he didn’t and stripping down into boxers, falling into bed and unlocking the screen when it lit up, last words he’d hear, see, today not the ones he wanted to. ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’

 

* * *

 

The weather was too fitting, the pale sun had been blocked out by thick grey clouds, one sheet of them covering the sky and making his eyes hurt when he looked at them for too long, pupils bubbling with spots of dancing light. It was still strangely warm though, clammy with an oncoming thunder storm, rain collected for weeks threatening to throw down all at once and soak everything, it seemed as oppressive as he felt, weighing down on him as heavy as the knowledge of Mizuki’s deception.

The streets were quiet and he was grateful for that, because he’d been seen too many times lately breaking down or angry or looking stupid and today of all days he didn’t want to deal with that, he had enough on his plate. So it didn’t seem that Kin was going to suddenly appear and throw a spanner in the works, and besides, he knew of his plan anyway, he’d texted him earlier in the day and let him know what was going on. He’d offered some stellar advice but he knew he’d never be able to follow it, staying calm and pretending he was uninvolved in the situation really wouldn’t help when he was burning up with anger and betrayal.

But he supposed at least now he had somebody to fall back on if things did blow up in his face, as they had a habit to lately, he just wasn’t too sure how he felt about it being Kin, because even with them some things went unspoken. He didn’t mention it, the fact Kin was always slightly too close or how fast he’d move to touch him, to pick a grain of rice off his cheek or to grab his wrist or hand to get his attention, to ruffle his hair when he’d made him laugh or was being childish.

Sometimes it really scared him, because it reminded him of how he and Mizuki used to be, best friends who shared everything, a business, a friend group, widely had the same likes and dislikes in movies and food, who worked out together and spent nearly all their time together.

But they’d fucked up hugely and changed their entire dynamic, and sometimes when Kin did something that reminded him of Mizuki, for a moment his face would fall and he would grow cold, thinking of the day things would fall apart between them too. Kin’s feelings would come between them, of course they would, and while he liked Kin, he didn’t feel like that, not yet anyway, maybe one day he would, but he knew relying on maybes was always a terrible idea, thoughts petering out as he reached the bar.

He knew he could let himself in, he always did, unlatching the large double gate that led to the bin storage area and shutting it behind him, door up to the stairs left unlocked for him too and once he was up the stairs only the apartment door was left to conquer.

 

* * *

 

So he knocked, and heard what sounded like something being dropped from within, muffled curses in thankfully only one, familiar tone, then the door swung open and he was there looking tired but actually sober for once. He stepped aside silently to let him step in, lingering there awkwardly until Mizuki offered him a drink and he nodded more to have a second alone than anything else, heading to his usual spot on the couch, the corner nearest to the door, the one where it would be hard to escape from.

So Mizuki returned with a beer for him and a coke for himself, Tio wondering absently as he sipped at the already opened can if he’d added a splash of vodka for courage, sitting cross legged on the other end of the couch, facing him. But he supposed he wasn’t too bothered about whether that was true or not, if Mizuki wanted to spiral into alcoholism he certainly wasn’t in any mood to actively intervene, smell of his own beer making him feel sick even as he sipped it.

“I-“ His words failed him and he stopped, chewing on his bottom lip and fingers playing with the ring pull on his can until it came off and there was nothing to distract him from speaking. “I should have told you.”

“That would have been nice,” he tried not to let anger, disappointment, hurt, touch his voice, but even if he sounded okay, logical and clear headed as Kin had told him to be, he knew his hunched in pose, his discomfort made it obvious he wasn’t okay, _they_ weren’t okay.

“Mm, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I should have known you wouldn’t freak out or whatever. I jus- never mind,” he shook his head and Tio was too nervous to even bother asking what he’d been about to say, curious as he’d been, just sipping from his beer, too cold, hurting his teeth on the way down. “Um, I don’t really know what to say, d’you wanna ask anything? I mean you must have lots of questions.”

“I don’t understand.” It wasn’t a question, wasn’t what he’d been asked for and it came out too quickly, the issue that had been swirling through his brain since he’d found out spilling out faster than he’d meant to, a little more desperate, lost.

“You wouldn’t, neither would anybody. I- Maybe it would help if I told you how it happened?”

“Worth trying, I guess,” he managed to smile then, small and encouraging, because he knew this must be hard for Mizuki too and he cursed his stupid empathy as he just smiled back, knowing he was trying so hard not to just freak out.

“That time you found him in my kitchen he really was just there to eat and stuff, that’s how it started. He broke in one night when he was drunk, I didn’t know who he was then, or not properly, so I made him breakfast and talked to him and stuff. He- I mean you’ve seen him, I felt sorry for him. He seemed okay, like any other street kid who causes trouble sometimes.”

Tio just nodded, because he supposed that made sense, Sly was always a little too thin, looked dirty and tired and in bad shape, he guessed he might have done the same if he didn’t know him, if he was sure he wouldn’t cause trouble. “But I told you what he was like, why did you keep doing it after you knew?”

“Guess I didn’t believe you, he never seemed like that to me, I mean he was only sixteen, and I know, I know, I’m disgusting, you don’t have to tell me that,” Tio hadn’t spoken but he’d sensed the involuntary movement of his face into a grimace, because that was somehow the worst part, even though he knew Sly had probably taken part in every kind of sex act imaginable by the age of about fourteen, sixteen was still so young. “I thought it was just rumours, I still don’t really believe he’s that bad now, sure we argue sometimes but he’s not all bad.”

“So- I mean I don’t really have a problem with that, that was just being nice. When did it- I mean, how did… _I don’t get it_.” He wanted to ask when Mizuki had decided it would be a great idea to fuck the street trash he’d been looking after, but his words failed him because for some reason it felt like saying it made it too real and he hated making it any more solid in his mind than it already was.

“That was entirely him, he’d been trying from the start, to repay me, he called it,” his hands had tightened a little on his can and when he realised and released it the dull metallic thunk of aluminium returning to it’s original shape was almost deafening in the tense silence. “I said no, he was too young, he didn’t owe me anything, it freaked me out how he used to not understand I was just doing it to be nice.”

“So when did it happen, the first time?” It was meant to be a question but damn it was basically a demand, he needed to know right now, he was sick of Mizuki edging around it, he suddenly wanted to know everything, what had it been like, had he enjoyed it, though he must have done to repeat it. He wanted to know if he’d felt dirty afterwards, felt bad, had to look away whenever anybody stared too closely, whether every time hickeys were mentioned if he felt sick to his stomach with the memory of who left them there.

“He was seventeen by then, I- Oh you’re really going to hate me for this. It was,” he swallowed nothing, mouth empty and drink forgotten, clenched in white knuckled hands, lowering his voice as if that would make his following words any less disgusting. “After Yasu’s memorial.”

Oh God, he could see every single inch of Tio react to that, his eyes widening, brow furrowing, lips parting and indignation, horror, filling him, body tensing and recoiling back, expression not staying that way for long, switching to disgusted, hurt, angry.

“You’re joking, you’re actually fucking joking.”

“I’m not,” and that was when he started yelling and he’d known it would come to this but he’d never thought it would this fast, knowing there was nothing he could say to defend himself and just letting the anger, the disgust, wash over him, guilt piled higher on his shoulders than before but knowing he deserved it, he was a monster.

“After Yasu’s ceremony? You’re serious? Did it mean nothing to you? Just something to fill the time before you could go home and get a fuck? Oh my god, Mizuki, I can’t believe you! You of all people know how much Yasu’s death meant to us all, I know you weren’t that close to him but fucking hell at least show some respect!”

He hadn’t meant to retort, he’d meant to let Tio get his anger out, to give him everything he deserved but no, he was still proud and stubborn and that was not how it had gone, he had showed respect, he fucking had and he wouldn’t let that be doubted. “I got fucking stabbed for him, didn’t I?! You think I haven’t already done enough? It was my fault, Tio, and everybody knows that, what was I supposed to do?”

“Do you never listen to me? It was not your fault!” He’d knocked his empty beer off the coffee table, few tiny drops seeping into the carpet but too enraged, too annoyed and pushed aside and neglected to even care, trying to finally make Mizuki believe that nobody blamed him.

“Yes it was and everybody knows it! Why do you think Shin left? He couldn’t stand to look at me knowing I let him die! I couldn’t stop thinking about it, how it was my fault everybody was upset, what a shit leader I was, so I went home and Sly was there and I know it was a fucking stupid decision but I just wanted a distraction, I’m only fucking human!”

“Why didn’t you just call me? Or ask me to stay after, you know I would have understood!”

“You weren’t the right person,” he saw the second that hit, open, earnest expression hardening and voice terse when he responded, a little callous and very, very offended, derision sharp and biting in his tone.

“And Sly was?”

“I don’t have to pretend to be somebody else when I’m around him.”

“And you do with me?”

“That’s not what I said,” he was getting angry now, he never liked being attacked like this, not with words, having his reputation ground into the dirt by the man who was meant to be his best friend, who was meant to have his back, to stand with him no matter how stupid his actions were. They were batting cruel, unfeeling words back and forwards too fast for either to react with anything but more anger, more hurt feelings and dented pride, neither stopping to calm down and think things through, just wanting to prove themselves right.

“That’s what you meant.” The bartender didn’t reply, because he had nothing to say, because maybe it was what he had meant, maybe deep down inside he and Tio had never been as close as either of them had thought, maybe they had and that bond had been destroyed by idiotic decisions and too much tequila. “You can’t keep this a secret forever, Mizuki.” He knew the bartender was going to speak, to object and to say that he damn well could, and certainly would too if he got his way, so he spoke over him. “What if you’re arguing when the bar’s open and people hear you? Or somebody sees him going in?”

“They won’t.” How thin did Tio think the floors were? Besides, they didn’t get many opportunities to argue normally, or rather Sly didn’t leave him any time to even if he might want to, very blunt with what he wanted and shutting the bartender up very effectively, usually with his own lips on one area of his body or another.

“What if somebody else had caught you? You think they’d even try to understand?” He didn’t know how it would end, would they react the same way he had, in startled shock and just stare until Mizuki noticed him and launched into his panicked, badly thought through excuses. Or would they drag Sly off him and beat him to a pulp for even daring to touch their leader, let alone for seducing him too, as they’d surely assume he had done, because who would believe Mizuki would go anywhere near Sly of his own free will? Most likely they’d run out in horrified shock and promptly tell everyone, and word spread fast not only within Dry Juice but also on the island, he’d be ruined before the day had ended.

“No, but nobody did! I’ll be more careful I promise, please don’t make a big deal out of this Tio.” It wasn’t a big deal, at least not to him, it wasn’t like he was paying Sly or bribing him or anything unsavoury, they had an agreement, they were both adults, or Mizuki was anyway, but he tried to forget about that, and they both consented, so other than Sly’s reputation, he couldn’t see a problem. But then, he was biased.

“It is a big deal! It’s a fucking huge deal, Mizuki!” Was he just being selfish, or was he looking out for his friend? He didn’t know anymore but what was horrible was that he wasn’t certain he even cared, because Mizuki had chosen Sly Blue over him, _Sly fucking Blue_ , and it was like he’d ripped his heart out then stamped all over it. “You’re my best friend, Mizuki, I’m not going to let you fuck everything up!”

He scoffed at that, teeth clenched and expression disbelieving as his friend offended him like this, tried to tell him how to live his life just because he’d made one decision he didn’t much like. “Oh my God Tio, I’m not fucking anything up!”

“Yes you are! You’re so fucking blind! He doesn’t love you, Mizuki!” Not like I do, he added silently in his head, trying not to let the words slip out, to show how much he’d been seething with jealousy, with hurt, because if Mizuki just wanted somebody to fuck why wouldn’t he just start their agreement again? Regardless of how much it might hurt him to not be loved back, he’d take anything he could to get close to the bartender again, even just letting him use him, he’d break his heart a million times more just for a fucking kiss. “He can’t! He’s not fucking capable of love!”

“I know, I don’t even know if I-” his teeth were ground together, holding in his anger because he knew it was true but hearing it said so bluntly, so without concern for his feelings, hurt, and he didn’t much like the fact that it was Tio of all people telling him this. He shook his head a little bitterly, expression softening but gaze icy as he looked across the wasteland like space between them, over the frosty atmosphere they’d created. “You’ve always supported me before.”

“I’m not going to let you fall in love with somebody who’s just using you.” It would be different if Sly loved Mizuki too, but he wasn’t capable of that and everybody knew it, sure, if Mizuki fell in love with somebody and they loved him back, Tio would stand back and support him one hundred percent, allow him to be happy. But Sly? No fucking way would he just sit back and allow it to happen, let Mizuki’s heart get broken the way his had, because it ached, and he didn’t want anybody else to ever go through that.

“It’s probably too late for that!” He’d vainly tried not to, to not let Sly’s occasional slips of character endear him, but his occasional acts of vulnerability had melted his heart before he could even register it was happening, in too deep already and miles away from the surface of the water. “It’s not like I can fucking help it! I thought you of all people would understand that,” because wasn’t there some unrequited pining here? Why was Tio so insistent he should break it off? Just because it was Sly? Or because he was jealous that the bartender might have chosen somebody else, _anybody else_ over him.

The blue eyes that met his were colder than the ocean whose colour they mirrored, expression almost offended because Mizuki knew better than to bring that up, they kept it buried and had done since he’d admitted his feelings and been knocked back. “Yeah well, things change,” the lie stung on his tongue, because for him nothing had changed, it had been so long since he and Mizuki had broken off their arrangement, since the tattooist had told him that he was sorry, but he didn’t love him back, and it still hurt as much to be without him every single day. Almost like self-inflicted torture to stay around him, to let himself be close enough to smell his irresistible scent and to accept the pats on the shoulder and the occasional hug that was never anything but friendly. “Just… Try to fall out of love with him, okay?”

“I can make my own decisions, Tio.” His voice was hard and he didn’t like it, didn’t like the way Sly had infected every part of his life and wound his way around the one person who was closest to him, who always seemed to understand. Hated the way he was choking the life out of him without even being near, without even knowing the devastating effects he was having as he filled Mizuki’s body, his very veins choked with Sly and his blue hair and golden eyes until he knew no amount of antibiotics could ever flush him out.

But being in love wasn’t a decision, because if it was Mizuki would have chosen Tio, it would have been simple, and easy and it would have kept both of them happy, prevented him from having to break his best friends’ heart and meaning this thing with Sly could never exist.

“I know,” and his words and the accompanying sigh, were genuine, scratching his cheek nervously, as if realising he’d spoken too soon and too harshly, had judged without knowing. “I just… _Sly_ , Mizuki. He’s… I just don’t get it.”

“I’m not asking you to,” he barely understood himself, somewhere in between how honest and forward with his intentions Sly could be, and how he hid his soft side under layers of insecurity masked by anger, fascinated him, and he’d gone from intrigued to infatuated too fast for him to even register it was happening until it was too late. “I just… I need to work some stuff out, yeah?”

“Yeah, I think you do. Just… Never mind, I gotta go,” he didn’t have to go anywhere, he didn’t know where he intended on going, maybe to some café, to grab a coffee and sit in a corner with it quietly, to ignore the coil message he’d already felt buzz through, to think.

“Yeah, okay. I- Thank you, for not telling everybody,” he still didn’t quite understand that, but Tio had stood and was nodding his understanding, barely limping as he walked to the door, Mizuki following, watching as he turned back again, thinking something over before speaking quietly.

"Your hearts too big, Mizuki. That means it's easier to break."

"Huh," he laughed at that, at least until he turned to take in Tio's expression and realised he wasn't joking, brow crinkling as he spoke because he didn’t even know if he loved Sly yet, let alone if his possible feelings would ever be returned, doubtful as that was. "I'm not going to get my heart broken."

“I hope that’s true.”

 

* * *

 

But the problem was that with Tio gone, there was nothing to do but think, and he knew he couldn’t avoid this anymore, couldn’t get drunk and pretend nothing was wrong, couldn’t order pizza and laze in front of the TV and act like everything was good. He had to let himself think for once, to let the crazed mess of his mind try to straighten out, to work out if Tio was right, if he loved Sly even if that idea scared him less than it should already, he needed to know what was happening with him, but he’d never liked focusing on things that hurt when there were so many of them.

It wasn’t quite as easy as just having a nice long think about it though, that wasn’t entirely how love worked, he wasn’t too sure he’d ever been in love before either, so he didn’t really know how it would feel. Sure he’d felt affectionate towards people before, felt fond, but that was how he felt about Sly so maybe it really was love, in that case he was royally screwed and may as well abandon his idea of a nice, peaceful life now. Perhaps seeing Sly would help, and he resolved to spend tonight sober either way, taking a deep breath that he really needed and wondering what else might keep his thoughts at bay, glancing around the room and noticing how untidy it had gotten.

Cleaning then, a task he usually put off, turning on music and dragging out the vacuum cleaner and banning thoughts of Sly and Tio from his head, immersing himself in really focusing on the dirt on his carpet and the stickiness of the dining table. It sort of worked, well, for maybe half an hour anyway, but then his coil chimed with a message and he was too foolish to just ignore it, especially when he saw the sender, opening it and smiling to himself.

‘Oi, dickhead, your friend better not fuckin interrupt us tomorrow or I’ll actually tear your dick off’

‘Oh? Planning a visit in advance, hm?’

‘Fuck off’ He just laughed at that, some movement in the corner of his eye startling him and letting out the most high pitched scream he probably ever had, ball of black legs meeting his gaze as his head jerked over. A spider, disrupted by his aggressive vacuum cleaning, promptly launching some kind of panicked technique which involved him leaping over it to get to the kitchen and retrieve a bowl to put over it, his usual way of dealing with them, which meant leaving them there then getting Tio to get rid of them. The fact that he and Tio weren’t exactly best buddies right now didn’t occur to him, just going back to his phone and actually not sure what to reply, knowing it didn’t need a response, just feeling a little warm that Sly had even bothered to use his coil since he only ever had once and that was to send nudes.

So how did the unexpected message make him feel, a little happy he supposed, but any kind of effort on Sly’s part always made him feel like that, he was just glad he was helping him to warm, to show some of the humanity he knew he had. So yeah he’d felt a little jolt in his stomach when he’d seen the sender, but that didn’t mean anything really, and sure it was nice that he’d responded immediately, had shown some consideration in at least trying to plan their next rendezvous, for lack of a better word.

Besides, he’d never been in love before so he surely couldn’t be now, ignoring the issue in favour of vacuuming around his unwelcome arachnid and deciding to actually retire to bed early and sober for the first time in over two weeks.

 

* * *

 

 

“I know your life is a complete mess, but why the fuck is there a bowl in the middle of your floor?”

“Huh?” He remarked intelligently, having been a little too distracted by staring at him and trying to figure out if it was love he felt, only realising what he’d said when he reached for the bowl, voice higher pitched than he’d like, “don’t touch it!”

Sly didn’t react more than to raise an eyebrow, rolling his eyes a second later and tapping ash onto his floor, much to his annoyance, just ignoring it with a shrug and heading to the coffee table where Mizuki had made them drinks of questionable strength. He dropped the topic then, drinking a somewhat ill-advisable amount of his drink in one go, promptly draining it as Mizuki took his first sip, Sly having not questioned his rare sobriety.

“There’s a spider under it, I normally get Tio to take them out for me, but…”

“He hates you.”

“Yeah, alright, thank you no need to rub it in. It’s your fault anyway,” he grumbled it out, sentence growing more whiney and childish as he continued, knowing Sly had caught on and was mocking him as he stood to regard the bowl again, glass left for the bartender to refill.

“Alright, how old are you, six? Do you need me to get rid of the big, bad spider for you?” he’d scooped up the bowl and grabbed the arachnid before Mizuki agreed as he of course would, because spiders weren’t something Sly had ever bothered about, there were plenty in his warehouse of course, he just considered them as company. “Want it dead?”

  
“No, just, chuck it out the window or something,” he of course had to open the window for him then, scrambling away from it and hearing Sly snort in amusement as he chucked the spider out and shut it again behind him, dumping the bowl on the table and Mizuki grimacing at it, wondering if throwing it away would be going too far. “Thanks, Sly.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, no need to get mushy about it,” he sounded a little bothered by how very genuine his gratitude had been, just ruffling his hair a little mockingly before flopping onto the couch beside him, less sharp than he really should have been, just taking the new drink and grinning at him lazily. “Pussy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Designs, updates, ficart and other things of interest- [here](http://minky-way.tumblr.com/tagged/intravenous-series)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist @ [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/minky-way/03-infected)

He dropped it twice before he managed to scrape it off the floor, tangling with his clothes from the day before and evading him, ringtone getting steadily louder as it continued and only more aggravating, infuriated by the time it was in his hand and he’d answered.

“Mizuki it is four am, unless you’re dying _fuck off_.”

“I love him. Tio I’m in love with him!” Then his tone changed to amazed and he was far too loud for whatever time it was, his eyes blinded by the light of the newly answered call so much he was unable to make out the numbers of the clock. “Oh my god maybe I _am_ dying.”

“Hm, you’ve realised it then? That’s nice.” He was dense sometimes but to not realise he was in love was taking it far even for him, already half asleep again, bedding so warm against his bare skin and the darkness outside infinitely soothing. In fact he was slurring, hearing Mizuki beginning to object and just deciding he didn’t much care to be around for his belated eureka movement, yawning and dumping the device back on his bedside table. He could hear his tinny voice filtering through but it was just background noise now, closing his eyes and planning on not reopening them until the first number on the clock was in double figures.

“Don’t fall asleep I’m freaking out! Tio! Oi, Tio! Oh god damn it!” he threw his coil then, which was both stupid and childish, characteristics he’d apply to himself increasingly these days, standing up from the couch he’d been sat on to pace his apartment again.

Over dramatic, yes, like something out of a bad movie, also yes, but somehow the movements seemed to help, burying one hand into his hair and remembering doing the same in rough blue and feeling a horrible bubbling happiness he had to force down. Sly Blue. Honestly, of all the people to fall for it would have to be him, spiteful, vindictive, malicious and somehow still so goddamned endearing that it had been almost inevitable.

So to list the benefits of being in love, life experience, of course, he supposed it might be nice to be in love with somebody, he felt a horrible tingling in his fingertips and a nervous sort of excitement flutter in his chest that was strange but certainly not unpleasant. Negatives, Sly would most likely not feel the same, dooming him to an existence of hiding his feelings, but he was sure he could do that, or of course he could tell him and that caused all sorts of other issues.

He stopped moving then, shaking his head and running a hand over his eyes because he was tired, it was stupidly early in the morning and no wonder Tio had yelled at him, of course he would have been asleep, who else wouldn’t be at nearly 5am?

_Sly._

His brain was so helpful at times like this, almost as if any excuse to think of the object of his affections was a valid one, because yes he too would most likely be awake at 5am, busy getting high or doing whatever it was he did and now he didn’t like to think about it.

He could message him right now, for any number of reasons, out of boredom, for a booty call he’d probably respond to unless he’d had very lucrative offers that night or was making good money, or he could message him those three simple words and ruin his entire life.

No, he was thinking like a crazy man again, repeating the same three steps across his dining room area like a prisoner confined to a six square foot cell, not even trying to distract himself from his thoughts because now he’d accepted them they were all he could think of. Love was a tricky thing it would seem, because it hadn’t snuck up or him but he didn’t feel like he’d had a shocking moment of revelation either, it had just kind of happened, he’d had the idea put into his head, thought about it then realised it was true.

Admittedly he supposed phoning his best friend with whom things were currently very wobbly at nearly five in the morning could most definitely be considered a freak out, and yes a little touch of hysteria had crept into his mind but really, who would blame him? He didn’t really know what to do now, other than to sit the fuck down and have a cigarette before he wore holes through his carpet, but he did know he could not, under any circumstances, drunk, high or otherwise, tell him about this.

But he could, of course, think about it as much as he liked, debating in his head whether violence would follow or merely sheer avoidance, would Sly lash out and beat the crap out of him, or would he just fade away into the background again. Which would even be preferable? Well, obviously he’d like some kind of response, though he was certain Sly wasn’t the sort to gently apologise and say he didn’t feel the same, he’d probably laugh, thinking he was joking, eyes sparkling and crinkling at the corners the way they did when genuinely amused. His expression would fall, he’d be uncomfortable, trying to be demanding and failing as he got nervous, maybe even blushing a little pink, all the way up to his ears which he’d certainly have tucked his hair behind.

“Oh fucking hell,” definitely in too deep now, and when had he even registered that Sly did half of that stuff? Over the rather long time they’d known each other he supposed, wondering how long it had been now, approaching two years he guessed, he’d hardly kept a note of it anywhere.

Two years seemed like a reasonable amount of time in which to fall in love with somebody, mind filled with thoughts of Sly and illogical decisions and the way he sometimes smelled like fresh baking as he got ready for bed. Last thought before he closed his eyes the same it always was, wondering where he was, if he was safe, warm, if he’d eaten that day or if he was hungry, hoping he was listening to Ren’s advice, wondering if he was thinking of him.

 

* * *

 

He hadn’t been sleeping well, but now he questioned that statement he realised he had issues with sleeping most nights, either because he was hopelessly drunk, or stupidly miserable, or busy doing all sorts of X-rated things with Sly. Far from realising he was in love comforting him, all it did was drive home the crushing loneliness he always seemed to exist under, because distancing himself from everybody around him had done nothing to bring him closer to the object of his affections.

All he’d done was push people away again and it seemed to be quite the talent, making friends then treating them so awfully they didn’t even end up wanting to be around him, his mind would flash back through time at moments like this. He’d remember the faces of the people who had adopted him, told him to call them mum and dad, had remembered not doing it even once and eventually they had dumped him too. But he didn’t like to think about that so he pushed it away the way he always did and tried to think of somebody else instead, of Tio, but all his treacherous brain did was remind him of how unsupportive he’d been, how judgemental, how unlike a friend he’d acted.

He really was hopeless.

 

* * *

 

 

He wouldn’t normally deem himself an angry man, but certain events could snap the sweetest of characters and he was growling even before he answered the call, “the next time you wake me up at a stupid hour god help me I will stab you so hard your-“

“They’re back! Beni-Shigure!”

His threat to throw his intestines onto the pavement died away and he sighed because this was definitely big enough to warrant being woken up, sitting up and shivering at the cold air above his sheets, groping around uselessly to find his lamp and flick it on, still dark outside. “Since when?”

“Last night I think, somebody thought they saw Koujaku and I saw his friend…” his voice trailed off because suddenly he realised he had no idea what his name was, Koujaku’s right hand man, who he used to see frequently, who would always stop and talk to him, ask how things were going. He didn’t even know his name. “Ah, you know, like his version of you?”

“Kou?”

“Yeah, I was jogging-“

“At five am?” he didn’t even pause before he responded and Tio felt it would be useless to ask why the fuck he’d been outside, jogging, alone, at five in the morning of all times, just shivering as a cool breeze ran over his leg, tucking his covers around him better.

“Yeah, and I saw him and stopped to ask where they’d all been and he had _no idea_ what I was talking about,” he’d been half asleep before, feeling himself sinking back into his sheets, but something about that wasn’t right and he frowned as he pulled himself upright properly and rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I asked where they’d all been since they’ve been gone a while now, and he said he didn’t know what I meant, that none of them had gone anywhere.”

Tio was definitely paying attention now, not sleepy any more but incredibly confused, because they had been missing for a while now, he wasn’t certain how long exactly, but definitely a couple of months at least. To hear they apparently had no idea they’d even been gone made dread rise thick in his stomach, feeling suddenly, illogically terrified, because if it was true then something very sinister was happening and he didn’t much like that. “That’s- What?”

“Exactly! It’s weird, I knew something odd had happened but he wasn’t lying to me, I _know_ he wasn’t lying I could tell from his face, he really had no idea what I was talking about. I’m going to see Koujaku later, to try and figure out what happened, will you come with me?”

He wanted to say no, he really did, and under any other circumstances he would have said so, turned his coil off and promptly gone back to bed, but there was a prickling feeling in his fingers and he knew this needed investigating, just groaning to show his disapproval. “Ugh, what time?”

It was obvious he hadn’t considered that, just stammering for a second, presumably glancing at a clock to work out what would be reasonable, “um, like nine?” That was still too early for Tio to be truly happy, especially since the bartender seemed to have gained the annoying habit of thinking it was acceptable to ring him any hour of the day or night, but it was easier just to agree and end this conversation.

“Yeah sure, so are you done now?”

“Yeah. Sorry for waking you up. Again.”

“Mm-hm,” hanging up was easy and he didn’t even feel rude as he cut off Mizuki’s half-hearted farewell, remarkably surprised when he was able to roll over and feel sleepy almost immediately, knowing when he awoke a few hours from now he’d feel a damn sight more on edge about the whole thing.

 

* * *

 

He hadn’t seen Tio since they’d discussed things, or argued about things if it was to be given its correct title, and they were more awkward than he felt they’d ever been, even more so than on the day they’d first met. There weren’t really many safe topics they could speak about and conversation stuttered and died too many times, Tio glancing at him from the corner of his eye and Mizuki wondering if the red marks Sly had left were turning into bruises as he stared.

They fell into step beside each other easily though and those who saw them in the street were polite enough to pretend not to be gaping, open mouthed at the marks he now knew were on his skin, had seen reflected back in a shop window. They saved their whispering for after they were gone but not quite out of earshot and the rumours Mizuki knew had circulated before were flying around again, talk of them having gotten back together like they’d ever dated in the first place. Talk of cheating and fights in the street and crying following their stilted words, muttering quietly behind coil screens and across mugs of coffee, speaking words of pity for Tio, who’d been played once again.

But then Mizuki supposed that at least he couldn’t object to, because even though they were all wrong he had to admit that it was, again, Tio who’d been hurt by him, by his thoughtless actions and cruel deceptions. So they faded into silence as they approached the hairdresser’s home, salon closed today and both thankful that this trip hadn’t been wasted, that Mizuki’s first port of call in panic wouldn’t have been woken and dragged out of bed for no reason. But perhaps if he wasn’t selfish enough to still go to him after all he’d put him through, none of this would have happened.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, Mizuki, I wasn’t expecting guests but come on in man,” his surprise faded almost instantly, taking the fellow team leaders hand and pulling him into a half hug, clapping his back firmly and releasing him, moving aside so he could enter the apartment. His greeting with Tio was a little more distant but then they’d never been that close, just guiding him inside and closing the door behind them, Mizuki passing off his intense probing of the apartment as just general curiosity.

“Cheers, damn, been a while since I was here, huh?”

“Sure has, so what’s the occasion? Not often I get you turning up at my door,” he didn’t seem put out though, just smiling broadly and gesturing for them to sit on his couch, taking the armchair for himself and sliding the ashtray over to them as he lit up himself.

“Nothing really, just haven’t seen you about in a while, and some crazy stuffs been going on, wanted to make sure all was well with you and Beni-Shigure,” he could feel Tio’s mildly confused stare on him where he sat on the other half of the couch but he ignored it, he didn’t want to dive in immediately like he had with Kou.

“Mm?” He seemed surprised, but he believed it nonetheless, sitting back in his chair and dressed more casually than either of them had really seen him before, kimono elsewhere and legs clad in dark blue jeans, chest covered now by a plain, long sleeve shirt in his usual red. He was the very picture of good health, not too pale or looking any thinner, there were no new scars amongst the ones that covered his hands, no bruises or any indication anything had happened to him at all, but despite that, he’d been missing along with his whole team. “Yeah, business as usual, you know? Starting to wind down for the end of the year, but things must be the same for your guys.”

“Yeah, just, there’s one thing I wanted to ask,” Koujaku just waved absently at him, gesturing him to continue and dragging on his fancy cigarette, the only type he ever seemed to smoke and almost more a thin cigar. “Do you know what date it is?”

“Uh, you’re joking right? It’s like, the 20th, 21st, something like that, right?”

“What month?”

He’d been laughing before, amused at the odd question, because of course he knew the date, at least vaguely if not exactly, he had events to attend to and appointments to make, he couldn’t afford to not know what day he was on. But now he’d continued to ask weird questions and the point of this visit was growing increasingly suspicious, tone a little harder as he answered because Mizuki was treating him like an idiot and he didn’t appreciate that. “October. This is a prank, right? Kou said he saw you and you were talking crazy, like we’d all gone missing, what’s with that?”

“You-“ But now Tio was speaking, feeling that same sickness creep up into his mind, because Koujaku genuinely had no idea what they were on about, he wasn’t a liar and what reason would he have to lie about this anyway? “Maybe we just haven’t seen any of, you haven’t been less active or anything?”

“I mean, perhaps a little, but I’ve been cutting hair most days like always, just the usual stuff,” he’d shrugged then, the tone had gotten a little less accusatory and pointed and he supposed he could relax a little, pausing to consider and smiling in half apology. “We haven’t done anything big, I guess there’s a chance we just didn’t run into each other for a while.”

But no, that wasn’t a chance, not a big enough one to be anything but ludicrous anyway, with at least 30 guys on Mizuki’s team, and slightly less on Koujaku’s, and living on such a small island the chances of them not seeing even a glimpse of the other team was almost impossible. It was easier though to accept that and deem their disappearance a strange occurrence that was perhaps imagined by those bored by life, wanting some mystery to happen, than it was to think about the alternative, so Mizuki just shot Tio a look as Koujaku offered them drinks.

“Coffee would be great, and sorry for the interrogation, we just wanted to check you were good, you know how stupid rumours spread.”

“Sure do, Tio, want one too?” He nodded his acceptance and he headed into the kitchen, separated from them only by thin wooden screens and still speaking to them, rather thankfully as the topic of his enquiry was less than a pleasant one. “Speaking of rumours though, a little birdy told me you two were fighting in the street the other day, didn’t sound like you.”

Tio had lowered his head then, taking the now unused ashtray and tapping his cigarette into it, not looking up or seemingly willing to answer, Mizuki just cringing because he should have known everybody would have heard about it, even Koujaku had during his apparent disappearance.

“Oh, yeah, that was just a stupid argument about the bar, we work together so much sometimes we piss each other off.”

“Mm, I know the feeling,” it went quiet then, Tio finished his cigarette and began messing around on his coil instead, Mizuki close enough to see that he wasn’t actually doing anything, just trying to distract himself from the newly awkward environment.

But Koujaku was back soon enough, flower patterned mugs in his hand and seemingly not quite sensing the tension, taking a sip from his own drink, diluted with milk, and continuing along the same vein. “Yoshie-san from the post office told me about it, said it looked like a lovers spat to her. She’s got a great imagination.”

He chuckled then, glancing up from his mug and expression faltering a little, opening his mouth again to question Tio’s lowered head and hard jaw, his eyes averted away from the bartender and just now noticing the space between them on the couch. Mizuki managed a half-hearted laugh, as if trying to say how ridiculous that was, but he could tell the hairdresser was about to continue, to ask if she’d been right, just shaking his head at him and the other sensitive enough to drop the topic fast.

“She sure does, but um, this isn’t just a social call,” then Tio looked up, meeting crimson eyes and knowing with a sense of alarm that he knew Mizuki’s excuse had been half a lie, just offering him the tiniest smile and wondering if Mizuki was going to backtrack to the real issue here. “I’m thinking of having a Halloween party at the bar, d’you and your guys wanna come? Feels like we haven’t seen you in forever and with things being so weird around here it might be cool to have a night to relax.”

He’d been taking a mouthful of his drink then, swallowing it down and grinning wide, uncomfortable aura of this whole thing diminishing then and even Tio’s surprised expression bypassing him, because all that talk of being missing was making him nervous. “Yeah, sure thing dude, that sounds cool, I’m pretty sure most of the guys would be up for it.”

“Awesome, fancy dress obviously, I might even invent a new drink for it.”

So the conversation turned to nicer things then, details about their teams, funny anecdotes, new members being discussed and Tio having to give a rather awkward review of Kin, Koujaku’s raised eyebrow saying it knew something he couldn’t and they left with smiles and walked home in silence and pretended there was no problem.

 

* * *

 

“You know, Sly, I think we’re doomed.”

“To fuck til the end of our days?”

“Nah, just doomed.”

“That’s a dark thought for you bartender,” he somehow managed to sound utterly unconcerned while actually looking a little surprised to hear such blatant negativity leaving his mouth, just continuing to roll his cigarette, licking it closed neatly and moving onto another immediately.

“Hey, I can be dark when I need to be.”

He nodded absently at that, only half listening really, “thought your skin was the only dark thing about you.” He wouldn’t have looked up if it hadn’t suddenly gone quiet, tattooist not replying and leaving his remark hanging in the air, fingers faltering just long enough for him to drop tobacco into his lap, scowling as he scooped it back up. What was strange was the flicker of pain that had crossed Mizuki’s face when he’d said that, wondering what he’d done wrong, “what?”

“Oh, nothing, just… Kids can be mean.”

“You get bullied by kids?” He was joking, he knew exactly what Mizuki meant, just glad when he looked amused and rolled his eyes, losing that horribly pained expression he’d had a moment ago, Sly knowing he could be nasty but having not intended it this time.

“When I was a kid too, asshole.”

He debated taunting him for a moment, to mock him for being bullied and to talk to him in that condescending, babying voice, but he actually seemed ruffled and he didn’t really do much to encourage Sly’s teasing. “Well they’re dumb, better to be dark than pasty as fuck,” he shrugged then, because really he couldn’t care less if Mizuki was darker skinned than was normal, societal norms be fucked, he was hot anyway. “I don’t really give a shit what colour you are, besides, it makes you look exotic.”

Now he was teasing, but in the nicest way possible, waggling his eyebrows at the bartender as he passed over one of his worst rolls, the furthest his generosity would go because this tobacco had to last him a while yet. “Exotic, huh?” It sounded as if he liked that, leaning against the counter and back to relaxed and at ease again, lighting up and offering over the flame so Sly could lean into it, adding something to his drink while he took his first drag.

“Mm-hm.”

“You know, you can be pretty nice when you want to be,” it was an observation he’d made before, more internally admittedly, but when Sly could tell somebody, or just him, was genuinely bothered by something he’d usually try to fix it, albeit with clumsy words, they were well intended.

“Only to you sweetie,” and his pink lips smiled around his glass, drinking down Mizuki’s latest concoction, a blend of several exotic fruit juices, mango sourz and peach vodka, having arrived halfway through him trying to invent a new cocktail for the bar, awaiting his response. “This is the best so far, got a good kick.”

“Okay, so, try it with…” He paused then, searching through the frankly outrageous mixture of drinks and bottles of various things assembled on the counter, finding the chilli powder and carefully shaking in a little bit, handing him a stirrer to use. “This, and then let me salt the rim.”

“This is fancy as fuck, I feel spoiled,” he was joking, but he had to admit that he’d never normally get to taste drinks like this, they cost too much and weren’t alcoholic enough to really be a sensible option for him, so getting to sample so many was frankly great.

“Just good timing I suppose,” he took the glass then, wiping a slice of lime around the rim and dusting it with salt, aware suddenly of how stupid it had been to salt the rim after it was full as he got the tiny granules everywhere, including more in the actual drink than he meant to. “So, what does my master taster think?”

“Master, hm? I like the sound of that, maybe I’ll call you it when you fuck me later.”

“Please don’t,” his grimace was only a little feigned, because he suddenly recalled one old hook up who’d liked to do exactly that, and while he hadn’t hated it completely, something about it had really unnerved him and made their encounters suitably weird for him. But Sly just laughed and like the unintentional asshole he was, made Mizuki’s chest go all mushy and gross, reinforcing his increasingly accepted feelings almost constantly without so much as realising.

Then he took a drink, then another, turning the glass so he could get the salt and lime taste again, licking his lips rather too thoroughly and eyes wide, voice a little distracted as he spoke, staring intently at the orange beverage, “if I could fuck a drink, I’d fuck this one. Like, really hard.”

“Is that good?”

“Extremely,” but the second the compliment was out he was harsh again, pointing accusingly at him with a cigarette-clutching hand, “and hey, you better be naming this after me, asshole.”

“Suggest a name and maybe I will,” it wouldn’t really bother him, in fact it would save him the effort of coming up with one himself, always one of his weaknesses, creating was fine, but naming? He usually let Tio have the honour of that, and he was also usually the master taster, not that he’d ever applied that title to anybody but Sly, amazed suddenly at how much times changed because just a few months ago he’d never have expected this to be happening. He didn’t feel anything but grateful even as he knew that maybe he shouldn’t.

“Where are your parents from?” That came from nowhere and he frowned, pausing in sweeping up the salt and just lingering with his hand full of the small white granules, trying to work out why on earth he was suddenly asking that.

“Um, I have no idea, I’m probably half Thai though, or Cambodian? If that helps?”

“Yup, so call it the Thai something, there you go.”

“Wait, wait, what is your logic here?”

“It’s exotic, you’re exotic, ta-daa. You’re real fucking dumb sometimes,” false enthusiasm dissolved in seconds, staring at him mockingly but bottom lip betraying him as it twitched into a half smile, too soft to be a smirk. He looked suddenly so sweet, tilting his head to the side and raising an eyebrow as he waited for a consensus that yes, he really was the smartest, best person in the room, and all Mizuki wanted to do was kiss him.

He cleared his throat too fast, averting his gaze to throw salt into the trash and taking a moment to try and calm his cheeks down, not knowing if they were pink or not, dragging on his cigarette, eyes landing on a small bottle of food colouring and getting an idea.

“I present, Thai Blue,” he let a few drops fall in, not mixing but just floating to the bottom, making the drink fade into a gradient from deepest blue to the brightest, almost neon orange, amusingly enough both colours that reminded him of Sly.

“Sounds too much like my name, try Blue Thai.”

“Or Blue Tie.”

“Blue Tie, hm, I don’t hate it. Kudos, bartender, you got yourself a new menu item, so can we fuck now?”

“Mm-hm,” he didn’t expect it when he was abruptly grabbed, forced over the bar and hot lips on his already, not entirely sure he minded since it was what he’d been thinking about anyway, deciding not to think too deeply into how much gentler he’d rather it be.

 

* * *

 

“So what was that drink for anyway?” As the first thing he said in the afterglow, it was a little unusual and Mizuki just regarded him lazily, watching his ribs heave as he caught his breath and pushed his sweaty fringe off his forehead.

“Oh, I’m having a Halloween party, thought it’d be cool to have a new drink,” he shifted a little then, Sly still lying half atop him and seemingly not planning on moving, reaching across him for the box of proper cigarettes on the bedside table, handing Mizuki one before he even got his own.

“Where’s my invite, dickhead?”

He raised an eyebrow then, because honestly they both knew there was no way Sly could ever be invited to the bar, let alone to a party just for Dry Juice and Beni-Shigure, though he supposed he didn’t know it wasn’t open to the public. But he was joking and that was obvious too, because showing up at the bar on a normal night caused enough trouble without him all but crashing a proper event, no, he knew he’d never be able to do that and probably wouldn’t be stupid enough to even try. “Feel free to come by afterwards.”

The invitation wasn’t needed, nor was any explanation of subtext, because it was obvious what coming by afterwards meant and Sly didn’t bat an eyelid, just grinning darkly and yellow eyes shining up at him, “I might even dress up for you.”

“Oh yeah?” He knew what Sly’s version of dressing up was, thinking it would be less a costume and more some way of making underwear even sluttier, he was more butt-plug tail than he was slutty nurse though and he had the feeling he’d like whatever he ended up being. “Hm, I’m thinking a cat.”

“How basic do you think I am?”

“You don’t want me to answer that,” he snorted, leaning into the flame he was offered and puffing smoke almost into his face, skinny body lying across his chest and not moving, still a little tinged with sweat and ribs just starting to slow down in their movements, breathing calm and satiated.

“Not since I’ve got the fire,” he just inclined his head at that, fully aware that the chances of Sly setting him on fire were seemingly as small as his chance of moving off him, wondering for a second if this was how fuck buddies were meant to act then realising that perhaps it was. Sharing cigarettes afterwards, lying close but not cuddling, traits this shared with his and Tio’s fucked up mess of an agreement, so he supposed he couldn’t complain at the strange behaviour, but he could certainly question it.

“You’re rather cuddly today, aren’t you?” He was reluctant to speak, but he was met only with a raised eyebrow, Sly snorting in some amusement and not moving from where he lay, just deliberately letting ash fall onto Mizuki’s chest. But his words weren’t wrong, while he wasn’t exactly cuddly as such, he had maintained close proximity like he never normally would, not having rolled away or immediately gotten dressed and left, it was unusual.

“Oh fuck off, you tried to fucking spoon me a few weeks ago,” he just shrugged at that, because yes he had, the loneliness had overwhelmed him and for some reason he’d reached for Sly as his saviour, but he supposed he should at least be grateful he hadn’t taunted him then.

In fact he’d been increasingly nice lately, or as nice as he could be anyway, softer perhaps after he’d opened up to him a little, shown that life wasn’t exactly perfect for him even if it seemed that way. Or maybe he just felt bad that he was ruining his life, maybe he realised Mizuki had no friends because of him now and had decided he may as well try and take their place, but Sly would never think that deeply about somebody else, even if he thought that he’d only be sticking around to ensure he didn’t do something dumb like kill himself. “I can fuck off if you want?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” his answer just managed to not be too fast, verging on being distressed by that idea, but he was used to keeping things inside and Sly just lost the annoyed glare he’d had for a moment, flopping back over him and cigarette extinguished.

“Hm,” he hummed a little cautiously, watching Mizuki’s abandoned butt smoke down to nothing in the tray he’d shifted to his bedside table, propping his head up on one arm and regarding the bartender sideways. “You’re like a fucking radiator, how come you’re so warm?”

“Maybe because I don’t weigh like a gram.”

“Get fucked.”

“Just did.”

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“A bit, you don’t agree?”

Another hum, this one against his stomach, head having lolled back down and fingers tracing along his arm absently, more in curiosity than as any big act of affection, pausing on a thin scar as he responded, “you’re not all bad.”

“What a stunning review, I’ll be sure to tell my friends that.”

“I thought I scared all your friends away.”

“Are you implying Tio is my only friend?”

“Yes.”

He hesitated then, because he might have a point but he wanted his thinking clarified, enjoying this quiet moment between them where nobody was yelling or fighting or trying to get back into his pants, this moment where it was peaceful. But then it was strange, because the words he was saying seemed cruel but they weren’t spoken that way, they were gently offered for him to consider, declared as facts not stinging opinion. “Alright, so define a friend.”

“Somebody you’d hang out with, one on one, and yes, asshole, that makes us friends apparently. How disgusting.”

“Hm, well in that case yes I have no friends, except you apparently. How sad.”

“Pitiful really,” he replied, grinning a little darkly as he rolled over, hair splayed across Mizuki’s stomach now and frowning, or pouting, a second later, poking at his cheek when he didn’t respond and just watched him instead. “Oi, I’m bored.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“Hmm, we could fuck again,” his grin was definitely dark now, propped up on his chest properly and eyes flickering across the bartenders face, looking at him more than he usually would and smile not dimming as Mizuki pretended to debate this, finally raising a hand to absently play with blue locks.

“Alright.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, what should I go as for Halloween?”

“Hm, how about a cold hearted, dead inside vampire?”

He blinked then, because it had kind of been a legitimate suggestion but at the same time it was obviously a dig at him, not even a subtle one either, cringing as he turned away from his laptop to regard him, sipping at a complimentary Blue Tie and looking neither pleased nor disgusted by it. “Still cold about the whole me lying to you, thing?”

“Just a little, the free drink might be helping though. It’s good.”

“You think? Yeah, I got- Um, never mind, it’s, not important” he had been about to say that he’d gotten Sly to help, but he’d always had Tio to help in the past and he didn’t feel quite right making it sound like he’d replaced him so bluntly, cutting himself off and clearing his throat awkwardly. He’d raised an eyebrow in his direction but he just shook his head and the issue was ignored, sliding a little further across on his stool and tilting the screen so Tio could see, pointing out the decorations he’d ordered for the bar and waiting for his opinion.

“Mm, they’re good. The um, the drink, Sly helped you with it, didn’t he?”

His breath did a strange choking sort of thing, alarmingly like a death rattle and even Tio looking suitably concerned as he coughed a couple of times to control it, topic not forgotten once he was done almost dying. “Er, yeah, he turned up while I was making it. I would have asked you, but, we weren’t exactly on the best terms. Cause of the whole, me being an asshole, thing.”

“Yeah. That. But anyway, what are you going to go as? I was joking about the vampire thing.”

“I don’t know, everything I can think of is kinda boring,” he paused then, aware suddenly and out of nowhere that this was a chance to not be a shitty friend for once, to ask the question back where it was silently prompted. “So what about you?”

“I found one I liked,” he reached for his laptop then, still familiar enough with Mizuki to just help himself, opening the right website and typing a couple of things, turning it back with the costume he’d intended on ordering on the screen. “It took me ages to find one that wasn’t either really stupid or sexy.”

“Sexy?”

“Mm, like police officers and army men and stuff, you know, the cliché costumes women apparently go nuts over, men in authority and all that. It’s ridiculous, it was either something like that or I go as a dragon or a shark.”

“Hm, you’d make a good shark.”

“Oh shut up,” but his elbow in the ribs was good natured and not hard, smiling and clicking back into the general costumes, browsing through them together and laughing at the particularly ridiculous ones, both staring at an inflatable T-rex costume for far too long before Mizuki deemed it too big for the bar, to both their displeasures. They could still function, and for now that was all Mizuki could ask for.

 

* * *

 

“I got a call about a disturbance,” Tio turned then, the voice seeming familiar but so dimmed by the bustling crowd of the bar that he wasn’t sure, breath actually faltering for a second because _Jesus Christ_ he didn’t know who it was but their costume was a miracle of the gods. It was well fitting in all the right places, shirt collar popped up and SWAT badge on one side of his chest, short sleeves ending at the exact right place on nicely formed biceps and straps across the chest and stomach drawing his eye a little worryingly.

But then he registered how goddamned tall he was, unable to see much of his face under the sunglasses he wore and the rather pointless helmet, scanning him again unconsciously, gaze lingering on the handcuffs on his belt and the shiny boots his pants were tucked into.

“Is there a problem, sir?” Then the lighting changed to a brighter colour and his mouth twitched into a smile at the same time, a lopsided, messy smile that he definitely recognised, cheeks flushing pink because he had _not_ just been eying up Kin.

“Nope, but who are you trying to impress exactly? We’re the only ones here, you’re hardly gunna pull anybody.”

“Feel free to volunteer yourself,” he was joking and Tio knew that, changing the subject as he just rolled his eyes, pretending he wasn’t watching Kin fold up his sunglasses and tuck them into his pants pocket, wondering for a horrifying second if the handcuffs worked. “So, what are you supposed to be? Or who.”

“Robin hood, prince of thieves,” not many people had gotten it yet, he’d been asked if he was one of the Hunger Games characters, then if he was a pirate, which was incredibly stupid because what kind of pirate had a bow and arrow? So he just grinned and repeated the answer again, playing it up maybe a little as Kin leaned in closer to hear, music a touch too loud to speak over comfortably.

“From that animated movie?”

“Kinda, but not the fox version.”

“I gathered, no ears,” he’d lifted his hood to check then, fingers brushing across his curls before retreating, tilting his head to the side to regard him and registering the bow in his hand, yellow tipped arrows in a quiver strung across his back. “Cute choice.”

“Why does everybody say that? It’s not meant to be cute.”

“What’s it meant to be? Sexy? Who are _you_ trying to pull?”

He turned his face up into a sneer he definitely wasn’t practiced in enough to pull off, pretending to look disgusted and frowning up at him, watching his freckles change colour under the shifting lights, “definitely not you.”

“Rude,” but he had that smile again and without the sunglasses he looked a decent amount more reasonable, and by that Tio meant he didn’t keep staring at him, at least not when he was looking anyway, agreeing to follow him to the bar and ignoring how very tight his pants were, feeling overcome with alarm at how suddenly he’d found him attractive.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, you _have_ to get a blue tie, they’re so good!”

“A what?” The music was even louder here, they’d been pretty much in the middle of the room before but now the corner speaker was blasting them and Tio just shook his head, Mizuki heading over lazily and taking the order for two of the Halloween special, as it had been termed tonight. He waved away payment when they were done, trying to say something about Kin’s costume only to give up and shoot him a thumbs up instead, Tio objecting more than he should as he noticed his eyes trailing up Mizuki’s bare arms, streaked with camouflage paint.

He waved them off then, greeting some members of Beni-Shigure with a beaming, happy expression, clasping hands across the bar and all but yelling to communicate with them, asking where Koujaku was and laughing at whatever the response was, turning away to follow Kin through the crowd.

“He looks like he’s having fun,” it wasn’t a loaded remark but somehow it hit that way and Tio knew it hadn’t been said flippantly, it had been a clever observation and he wondered again if Kin was better at reading people than he’d like.

“Mm, I suppose so.”

“You wish he was miserable, don’t you?” He tried to hide his reaction to that, the smile that rose as brown eyebrows raised at him, noticing one strand of his stupid quiff flopping down into his eyes, the fault of his now abandoned helmet, no doubt. But he couldn’t quite manage to keep in the grin that escaped, laughing to himself in annoyance Kin had guessed him so easily more than anything else, nodding sheepishly, eyes that were on him turning a little too soft.

“Little bit, so, what you think of the drink?”

“It’s great, kinda spicy. What did you say it was called?”

“Blue Tie, Sly helped him with it apparently.”

He regarded his glass with a little more cautiousness then, seeming surprised and impressed in equal measure and Tio couldn’t deny him that, “well, say what you like about the guy, it’s a good drink. Not as good as French kiss though.”

He was doing it again, that bickering, flirting thing he did, but Tio was doing it too and he entirely blamed the several drinks he’d already had, the warmth of the packed bar and the tightness of his costume, just hiding his blush into his drink. “Suck up.”

 

* * *

 

“A soldier? Wow, that’s original,” it was ironic, because his voice spoke distaste but his gaze said nothing of the sort, tilting his head to regard the bartenders skin tight black vest and the baggy camouflage pants he wore, tucked into shining, neatly laced up boots. He supposed the cap on his head and the makeup he’d smeared across his cheeks and arms helped too, watching where the green and brown streaks traced across his biceps.

“Oh shut up, what are you meant to be anyway?” He didn’t even comment that he’d broken in again, didn’t remark that he’d helped himself to cigarettes and a beer, the only alcohol he actually had in his apartment, he was used to it, just replying immediately.

“I, am a broken doll.”

“Why a broken one?”

“Had to fit my cast into it somehow, so, what do you think?” He did a spin then and Mizuki had to admit the costume was kinda cool, odd and maybe a little creepier than he liked, but it suited him, the pigtails he’d pulled his hair into and the red of his lips.

His clothes looked like ones he’d found or stolen then customised, by which he meant his shirt had been messily torn across his stomach, more a crop top than anything else, legs bare except a remarkably short skirt he had to have stolen. There was a layer of red fabric sticking out of the bottom, almost like a petticoat, padding it out and all uneven lengths, mesh shredded up and entire white costume a sort of muddy colour, streaked with dirt and mud and probably ash from cigarettes too. He’d even involved his cast in the fun, broken wrist neatly held still under professionally looking applied papier-mache or something similar, white hard casing dirtied with mud and general grime, some cracks painted onto it.

“Hm, you must be cold.”

He’d been joking but Sly’s expression crinkled in a little annoyance, paint contorting his cheek to look chipped twisting and making his skin human again, scowling but losing his anger as he continued and realised Mizuki was teasing him. “God you’re such an asshole, am I fucking cold? I didn’t have to show up here, I could have stayed in Grime, nobody would have asked if I was cold there.”

“You went back to Grime after what happened?”

“Yeah, it’s a good night, and I watched my drinks this time, alright? No more nasty drug trips or showing up here unconscious. I’ll be a good boy,” he’d stepped closer then, one finger on his chest, lifting up the strip of bullets that wrapped around his torso, regarding them absently and blinking up at him with eyes a little too well made-up, large with eyeliner and cracking at the corners.

“You, good? I’d like to see that,” Sly shrugged then, releasing the bullets and playing with his dog tag instead, turning it over to see the basic engraving, details empty but listed; ID number, name, blood type, squad. “Not too sure I’m a fan of the makeup though, bit too creepy.”

“It is Halloween, some of us know it’s meant to be scary. But I’ll wash it off, it’s fucking itchy,” that was a lie and Mizuki knew it, he was washing it off because he didn’t like it, because he wanted to be even a little considerate, because he’d been being weirdly nice lately, expression turning wicked as he continued. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to get lipstick all over your dick, would I?”

“Knowing you, I doubt you’d care.”

“Hm, you know me too well.”

 

* * *

 

So they’d had drinks, Sly sitting on the couch with his legs too wide apart for somebody wearing such a tiny skirt, smoking cigarettes and swapping half-hearted insults neither really meant, Mizuki having just pulled his pants back up after pissing when Sly wandered into the bathroom.

“Relax, nothing I haven’t seen before,” his grin was cheeky as he shot him a lecherous wink and turned on the taps of the sink Mizuki didn’t normally use, bending over a little and using his newly damp hand towel to begin washing off his face paint, makeup, whatever it was.

Mizuki wanted to object, but then he looked a little too long at Sly, particularly his bottom half, not seeing him tracking his eyes in the mirror and hiding a smile, biting it down under freshly clean lips, clearing his throat distractedly before he spoke. “I have a question.”

“Let me guess, it’s about my ass?”

“Well- Yeah kinda, are you, um,” he cleared his throat then, because Sly had definitely bent over further on purpose just to show the black fabric he could see where his obscenely short shirt had ridden up, swaying his hips lightly as he washed his face. But then he changed his tactic from asking to stating, because he knew the damn answer already and he should have expected it from Sly because he was the most shameless person he’d ever known or probably ever would.  “You’re wearing knickers, aren’t you?”

“I prefer the term panties, but sure am, and I might do it more often, I got a lot more attention than normal,” he shrugged then, perhaps realising that mentioning the kind of attention they both knew he got now was foolish, drying off his face and paint all but gone, lips a little pinker and swollen where he’d scrubbed, turning to where Mizuki stood behind him and pulling him in closer by his belt loops. “So, what do you think, officer?”

“I think the military wouldn’t allow that.”

He was being deliberately dense to annoy him again, and it worked pretty fast, Sly shooting him a look so unimpressed and condescending he grinned, mouth twitching into a smile as he reacted, “you really are shit at roleplay, huh?”

“Drop and give me twenty?” Once again, mocking him and being mocked right back, speaking like he had no idea what he was saying even as he was certain if Sly wanted to be bossed around he’d be more than capable of doing it, but somehow didn’t want to now, wanted more of that amused expression on him, the hands on his waist.

“Twenty what?”

“Push-ups? I don’t know, I assume that’s what they mean.”

“Yep, useless,” he should have definitely been offended, but yellow eyes were warm and not disparaging, not rushing to action but just holding him where he was, fingers in his waistband and not moving, allowing the arms round his middle, encircling him, smile too fond for him. “But I suppose I don’t mind you being my army man anyway.”

“Oh, yours, am I?”

“For tonight anyway, you got a problem with that?”

“Not really,” but he should, he definitely should, and he shouldn’t have noticed the difference in the way Sly sucked his dick, in the way he held on tighter and laughed more and demanded less, in how comfortable and relaxed he seemed afterwards, in the way he fell asleep curled almost into his side. Mizuki just shut his eyes and tried not to think about three little words and how much he wanted to tell him, how he almost hoped it might go well, because he knew he could wake up tomorrow and be fire and rage again, with Sly he just never knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Designs, updates, ficart and other things of interest- [here](http://minky-way.tumblr.com/tagged/intravenous-series)
> 
>  
> 
> [halloween costumes](http://minky-way.tumblr.com/post/150177534315/my-inspiration-for-the-halloween-costumes-in)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist @ [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/minky-way/03-infected)

He tried it once, just once, making the images in his head real, he learned his lesson soon afterwards as to why it wasn’t a good idea, he’d just wondered how he would react, although he had a feeling he already knew, the same way he reacted to anything overtly gentle, with bitter words and violence.

But still he was stupid enough to try it, just leaning over the bar, touching his chin to make him look up then kissing him, soft and the way people should kiss, not the way they always did. The yellow eyes widened and there was a brief moment of stillness in which Mizuki thought that hey, maybe Sly _wouldn’t_ punch him.

Then he punched him. Hard. Albeit he was probably so alarmed that his aim wasn’t quite as perfect as it normally was, neither was his lunge as forceful as he’d known it to be in the past, but his fist still hit him pretty hard, right in the mouth too.

There was heavy silence as he recovered from the blow and Sly rubbed at his reddening knuckles with those half hidden in his cast, ah, he couldn’t use his dominant arm which had explained the lack of force behind it. “Okay, so I deserved that,” he managed to laugh as he swallowed down blood and examined the torn inner lining of his lip with the tip of his tongue, thick red fluid trickling down his throat as Sly just scowled.

“The fuck was that for?” His eyes were a little more narrowed than they should be, lip twitching the tiniest bit and tongue escaping to swipe across the place the bartender had just touched, insult too tacked on, anger not real, a façade to cover for his sudden alarming feeling of fear, “asshole.”

“Wanted to see how you’d react,” it wasn’t a lie so it was easy to say, to shrug afterwards as if it wasn’t really a big deal, as if it had just been an act of morbid curiosity rather than an idea that had been burning him up for days without any sign of it stopping. But now he’d done it he wanted to do it again, to coax Sly into accepting it, into returning the affection that made him react so viciously, wanted to show him he deserved it. Damn, he was fucking far gone enough that he wanted Sly to initiate it, for no good reason as he just had.

“What did you think I was going to do?”

“Punch me,” he saw no point in lying, because Sly was hardly the type to pull away and blush madly, nor the type to follow along with the almost affectionate action, he’d expected some kind of aggressive end to his stupid idea, and he’d been right.

Sly didn’t respond to that, just stared at him as if to ask why on earth he’d done it having already known it would end in his being punched, hard, in the face at point-blank range, deeming him a moron and just stealing another of his cigarettes. “Don’t do shit like that again.”

 

* * *

 

The whole, ‘keeping his feelings hidden until either he or Sly died’, plan, wasn’t going as smoothly as he’d anticipated and he really should have expected that given how atrociously his plans always ended, even the best ones. So it was, he supposed, to be expected that he’d be a little less able to be quite as rough as Sly might like now he’d come to the crushing realisation that there was something more than friendship here.

He should too have realised that Sly now knew him far too well to not be able to sense such a huge shift in his behaviour, he should have known it was coming, the day when he’d suddenly be attacked, verbally at least, about his weirdness. But he liked to live day to day like the moron he was, so he didn’t plan for that eventuality, didn’t think of an excuse he could use to put Sly off the trail, he just didn’t think, and that was always his greatest downfall.

 

* * *

 

Something strange was going on, and at first he blamed it on his own actions. How nice he was being had obviously gone to the bartenders head and he seemed to think he could treat him like some delicate little princess instead of the same way he always did. But he kept catching him _staring,_ which was complimentary in its own way he supposed, but he didn’t much appreciate the unknown emotion he always showed when he did it, how he’d smile almost queasily if he was caught or questioned.

It was fucking bizarre, he didn’t much like it and while he wanted it to stop he had to admit that some of the softer things were kinda nice, or helpful as he liked to put it, like the hands in his hair pushing it out of his face instead of tugging when he sucked his dick. Helpful. But that was about the only example he could find that could actually be deemed enjoyable purely because it made his life easier, Mizuki rubbing feeling back into his wrists after he’d been pinning them above his head wasn’t massively helpful, it was nice but utterly unnecessary and probably not something he’d even do himself.

He’d started kissing him too, well obviously he’d always done that, had been since the first time Sly had thanked him for breakfast with an open mouth and the tiniest flick of tongue onto surprised lips, but he kissed him differently now. He kissed him when they were done, one small press of damp lips onto his shoulder usually, his arm or other places sometimes when he couldn’t reach, never his lips, his neck, his inner thighs or stomach. Never in a normal place. Always in a place that was so utterly innocent it made Sly’s hairs raise all at once and his spine prickle even as he caught his breath and let him get away with it every time because it was just easier and if he started an argument he wouldn’t get a second fuck.

But it was odd, and he didn’t know if he liked it even as he let it continue, things bubbling up inside him until he was studying every move the other made, seeing the extra worry he aimed at bruises and fresh wounds, almost getting a lecture about the neat row of cuts etched into his soft inner thigh. Something was wrong, different, and he was more than determined to figure out what so he could beat it out of him and they could continue the way they had been for so long without any more interruptions.

 

* * *

 

“You’re being really fucking weird lately, or weirder than usual anyway, the fucks up with you?” It wasn’t even remotely how he’d meant to ask, but that was how the words had escaped and he guessed it was as good a way to question it as any other he might have skilfully concocted.

It was worryingly easy to admit it, to just say it, calmly and like the fact he knew it to be, to just let the words that had been mutating and growing in his brain escape, to let them infect the air between them like a virus. It wasn’t even like he’d blurted it out in a moment of illogical panic, he’d just said it plain and simple like he might say anything else when questioned so aggressively.

“I love you."

His brain seemed to realise how incredibly stupid that had been only after Sly had heard it, registered it and begun to process it, so there was no way he could just turn it into a jab, however on earth he might have done that. But he’d done dumb things before, and while this probably seemed monumental to anybody looking from the outside, Mizuki couldn’t help but feel a little illogically relieved, because now it was out he didn’t have to keep it hidden any more. It was out there and he could relax and stop being so on alert all the time, he could act strange and Sly would know why, would understand it was because things had gone too far for him and he couldn’t help it.

But Sly just raised both his eyebrows, regarding Mizuki as if he had just announced he was a squirrel or something equally bizarre and rolled his yellow orbs a minute later, “okay… So that was weird. But anyway, I’m not here to chat, lovely as I find your company.”

And that was that, his huge admission, the secret he’d been holding close to his chest all these weeks was out, and Sly didn’t give one single fuck, honestly he didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it surely would have consisted of more than that one word, ‘okay.’ But it was sort of what he’d expected so he didn’t see the point in causing an argument, he had the feeling one would come later anyway, once Sly had given himself time to brood over this, to pick it apart and work out how Mizuki would use this to manipulate him.

He just poured more drinks, made his extra strong and wondered how long this would take, how soon he’d be alone to feel shitty and realise that once again, he’d put his interests in the wrong person, that he’d messed things up again.

 

* * *

 

But they were done now and he was silently fuming because he knew Sly could be callous, but to just continue the way they always did after he’d said what he had was too malicious even for him, trying to keep the cadence of his voice neat and calm. “Are you not even going to acknowledge what I said?”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Mizuki’s lip twitched and he shrugged, extricating himself from damp sheets and turning back to face him a moment later, expression all Mizuki needed to see to know how mocking his tone would be as he continued, practically leering across the bed at him. “Try not to think about it too much, bartender, wouldn’t want you doing something stupid, would I?”

“Like what?” He didn’t say anything, he just shot him a look, eyes lowering a moment later like he couldn’t hold his gaze, swallowing too thickly and coughing harshly into his fist, yanking back on clothes that weren’t even his to begin with. He wouldn’t listen even if he spoke and Mizuki knew it, he’d get finished dressing and leave and slam the door behind him, abandoning the bartender and all his kindness and ignoring his feelings, voice harder. “You get cold easy, huh?”

“It’s November, it’s freezing.”

Angry tones rising, naked skin chilling in the previously warm air, exotic tan on pasty white, fingers overlapping spindly wrists and hollow feelings darker than the words which accompanied them, “that’s not what I meant.”

“Let go of my arm,” spitting and hissing and much more a snake than a lion now, recoiling and if he’d had longer fangs he would have bared them and shimmied away on his belly, close to the ground where only his feet could stay. Mizuki thought he let go, but then perhaps Sly just tore himself free, staring at him for a moment with expression hard and jaw tensed, parting his lips as if to say something then the words dying because he didn’t know what to say. He knew, of course, what Mizuki wanted to hear, some kind of understanding, a similar statement of mutual affections, but he couldn’t give that and hadn’t he acknowledged him already just by staying this long?

“The doors locked.”

“Then I recommend you get the fucking key and unlock it before I kick it down.” Hollow threats he recognised but this one had the faintest tinge of truth to it, sighing as if that was the only issue he had to deal with right now, standing to yank on sweatpants and absently remembering entering his living room once to find Sly, uninvited and wolf whistling at him. But there was nothing but stony silence now, Sly had been trying to snare him and had succeeded as he probably would with anything else were he to actually try, and now the hunt was over, the game was done and things were dull and boring and Mizuki had gotten caught too well in his trap.

 

 

He hesitated on the threshold, as if debating stepping into the chilled air outside or staying, but of course no such idea entered his mind for even a second, just poking a finger at his chest aggressively, deliberately not touching his hot skin, like a radiator. “You better fucking forget you ever said what you did.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

It was odd, that he chose to be calm now, that his words came measured and even and with no shortness of breath or chest pain or crushing sense of dread, just filtering out neatly and showing the intention he didn’t realise he’d had until it was verbalised by a suddenly foreign tongue.

“Your loss.”

“You always were.” Did that even make sense? He had no idea but it was like words were forming by themselves and based on the irritated tut that left Sly’s lips as he stalked away it made perfect sense, to him at least. It was true, Sly was his loss, economically, socially, emotionally, he came into people’s lives and sucked and sucked away at them until everything was gone. Maybe that was his aim, to reduce whoever he’d targeted to the same level as him, to a state where they were so desperate, so horribly broken that they’d have to stay with him to survive, perhaps that was his technique.

But he wasn’t that cunning and Mizuki wasn’t foolish enough to believe he felt no guilt for his actions, it had lingered there for a split second as a pretty, four letter word had fell from soft lips into the space between them. Regret spreading heavy in the suddenly claustrophobic air in the apartment he’d left behind.

 

* * *

 

God, every single fucking time he so much as let somebody in they did something to fuck him over, his parents had abandoned him, his Grandma had tried to keep him locked inside so he could be the perfect grandson, and now Mizuki apparently loved him. It was even more aggravating because he’d thought Mizuki got him, understood him even a little, he’d been naive and foolish and had assumed the bartender wasn’t fucking stupid enough to fall for him, let alone to actually tell him.

He was angrier than before. When his parents had left he’d been sad, heartbroken, he’d been a child whose parents had left him behind with an emotionally constipated grandma who objected to having to spend her twilight years caring for a child that wasn’t even related to her. But now he was old enough to be angry, to be enraged by the fact that Mizuki had betrayed him like this, because Sly had trusted him, had liked him, he was nice when he needed to be and hard when Sly needed to be taught a lesson and he’d liked that. He’d seen Mizuki as a friend, as somebody who actually did care, as much as he continued to insist that he didn’t need people to care for him, and now he’d opened up to him a little and he’d let his walls falter and they’d been crushed to rubble.

But no, if anything he was rebuilding them, higher and stronger than ever, so nobody else could ever get anywhere near to him, couldn’t even hope to crack the plaster that held them together, so he’d never be manipulated and tricked like this again.  He felt a little scared too, at how fast Mizuki could make him relaxed, could reassure him and make him break his own rules, staying after they fucked to chat and lie too close together, he’d actually been laughing for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He’d let him offer clothes and food and hot showers and had accepted because he didn’t seem to have an ulterior motive, he was a friend now, that was how he assumed friends treated each other. He’d liked him, and that stung because it hadn’t been like with his parents, where he _had_ to be sad about them going, where he _had_ to care about them, this had been optional, or kinda optional anyway, emotions still evaded him.

But he’d chosen to let Mizuki worm his way in, he’d chosen to try and be nice to him, to not yell and glower and scowl, he’d chosen to smile instead and to insult him but not with malice and with a grin. He’d chosen to act unlike himself and he’d been tricked all along, had been played for a fool, might even have helped the bartenders feelings develop and that made him feel physically sick.

 

* * *

 

He supposed it had gone better than it could have done, yet at the same time had somehow gone exactly as well as he’d expected it to, which wasn’t very, just ending up sat in his empty apartment, back aching where nails had scratched and feeling distinctly numb.

He needed to change his bedding, and to clean up the bottles on his coffee table, to wipe away wet circles before they marked it forever, but moving seemed like a lot of effort and besides his sheets smelled of Sly. So he sighed, long and reluctant through his nose, just letting his body fall to the side, lying awkwardly across his sweat-damp sheets and blinking absently at the ceiling, room so much emptier, so much quieter now he was alone again. The air was gradually getting staler, scent of sex fading and only that of musk and alcohol remaining, lips thick with the taste of yellow eyes and the touch of blue hair, shutting his eyes for a second and squeezing hard so white blobs marred his vision.

Sly had brought his drink into the room with them, the remainder of the vodka, diluted with coke he’d poured messily into the thin neck, and his eyes lingered on it too long, the red label matching the thin lines and spots on his sheets from backs clawed at and necks bitten too hard. He’d been swigging at it the whole time, in between sloppy, biting kisses and when they changed position and he was on top, bottle clutched in his hand and liquid sloshing as he rocked his hips and almost snarled as Mizuki’s fingers dug in too hard.

It wasn’t how it was meant to be, not how things was meant to go, they weren’t supposed to have sex after Sly dismissed him like that, they should have argued, or he should have left or something else, _anything else_ , should have happened. He shouldn’t be left alone with his statement unanswered in words but so obviously unrequited, laying in damp sheets that made him feel a little sick and more exhausted than ever, not sure if he should just curl up under his duvet and ignore it all, or if he should do something stupider.

If he was a braver man he’d do neither, he’d get up, shower and put on fresh bedding, he’d get back in control and rehearse what he planned on saying to Sly the next time he saw him, but he was a coward and a big one too, and the idea of all that intimidated him. So it was for the familiar neck that he reached, cold under his touch and it was the lip he drank from, where Sly’s had been not half an hour before, closing his eyes and tilting his head back and swallowing down the burning.

He knew it was becoming a problem again, the drinking, too much and when it wasn’t really normal, but he didn’t know what else he could do, the alcohol took his mind off it, took his mind off everything because he wasn’t capable of much when he was completely wasted. So right to the base then, where things ran dry and there was nothing more to sip and even less to say, stomach groaning and expression dull and dismal as he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror and bloodshot eyes gazed just past him.

He couldn’t even meet his own eyes.

 

* * *

 

Every night was the same now, he’d come in from work and start drinking, or he’d begin to drink at work, accepting the offer of joining a customer with too much lipstick and her breasts thrust across the counter at him. Would do a shot with her to keep her happy and the voices in his head quiet more than anything else, would pretend he couldn’t see Kin giving him odd looks as if he was vomiting everywhere and falling over instead of just having a little fun with a customer who tipped well and understood that flirting was one thing but anything else was not happening.

It wasn’t like he knew anything, or at least he tried to tell himself that but he and Tio were too close already, always talking with their heads together whenever they got quiet, making excuses to do tasks together just to get away from him. But that was probably just paranoia and honestly who wouldn’t be paranoid after all this? He had secrets now that he didn’t want anybody to know but Tio already did and by the look of it Kin most likely did too, somehow that bothered him more than Sly’s reaction, or he pretended it did anyway.

Better to say he was drinking too much out of fear of his entire reputation being destroyed than due to some stupid, unrequited feelings he ought not to have gotten in the first place. The first was logical, the second was pathetic and until now only Sly thought that of him.

 

* * *

 

“Ah, that was so good! Thanks for seeing it with me, Nobu sounded pretty sick.”

“Sure,” he smiled then, genuinely, because the initial nervousness of this had faded off somewhere in between them throwing popcorn at people and their exiting the cinema into the already dark evening. Hesitating for a moment because while he was obviously glad the film had been as good as he’d hoped, he wasn’t sure it deserved such a rapid review, ”but don’t you think the ending was a bit thrown together?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well everything resolved really fast, like she just forgave him and they got together, then the wizard decided to leave the forest creatures alone and go back to his own planet.”

“But that’s good, at least it was a happy ending.”

“Hm,” he debated this for a moment, because yes it had been a happy ending, everything had gone well, the couple were reunited and presumably would live a wonderful life together, and the world had continued on mostly unchanged for all in it. Happy it might be, but satisfying it really was not. “I’m not a big fan of them.”

“Happy endings? Why not?”

He had that feeling he was being read again, that Kin’s eyes were narrowing as they regarded him, ditching his finally drained cup into a trash can just past the small cinemas entrance. He could almost visualise his expression. He’d be frowning just a little, one side of his mouth turned down and he’d be wearing that intense, almost probing stare that made him uncomfortable, working things out about him without needing even a single word. “They’re unrealistic, life usually doesn’t have happy endings, I like films that end kinda badly, or where nothings really resolved, like spirited away.”

He hadn’t stopped walking, but his gait certainly faltered for a second, allowing Tio to catch up, always half a step behind him due to his unfair height and long legs, frowning in clear disagreement and sounding almost amused with incredulity. “Wait, wait, you think spirited away _doesn’t_ end happily?”

“Of course it doesn’t!” He was surprised to hear genuine offence seep into his voice, because an amazing film it undoubtedly was, but if Kin thought it ended happily then they had very different definitions of what that meant. But a compromise could be reached and he had no objections to spending more time with Kin when things were so casual between them, dropping his weird defensiveness and suggesting a new plan of action. “Okay, let’s get coffee or something and I’ll talk you through it.”

“Upgrade that to crappy fast food and I’m in.”

He debated this for only a moment, because sure they’d eaten popcorn during the movie, but a good deal of it had been thrown and it was hardly filling, so he just nodded, amused at how pleased Kin looked and feeling remarkably okay for once. “Deal.”

 

* * *

 

So there they were, sat in some off brand fast food joint with vaguely sticky tables and cheap fake leather seats in obnoxious colours, Tio explaining, in great detail, every single issue in the endings of various films, studio Ghibli or otherwise, Kin interjecting or agreeing occasionally. Sometimes they’d disagree and the discussion would get a little loud, other diners glancing over and Tio feeling a little embarrassed under their stares, at how suddenly passionate he was about this, feeling the stares on the back of his pink-flushed neck.

He was somewhat surprised too at how interested Kin seemed to be in his theories, just letting him speak and occasionally interjecting with his own ideas or with disagreements, never aggressively even when their opinions clashed. He just sat there, eating fries and picking gherkins out of his burger, sliding them across to Tio the moment he announced he _loved_ gherkins, nodding as he sipped his drink and smiling when he got so enthused by his own ideas he almost sent his burger skidding off the table.

“Ah, I um, think I’m done now. Sorry that was probably super boring.”

“Not really,” that wasn’t massively reassuring and he felt bad now, because he’d essentially been the second choice for company tonight anyway since he’d been Nobu’s replacement, and now he was probably boring him to death. He was too suddenly embarrassed to see that he had a mouthful of burger, that he’d answered through it and was now hurrying to finish as he saw him almost sink into his chair, like he was ashamed at having taken over the conversation. “It’s interesting, and I think you’re kinda right, that bad endings stick in your head more? Plus you got really into it and started doing all these big hand movements, was kinda funny.”

He’d felt better then, because maybe he wasn’t boring, or maybe Kin had genuinely enjoyed listening to him explain why he thought what he did, he hadn’t seemed uninterested anyway, but he should have expected the little bit tacked on the end, knowing that when he said funny he really meant cute. It was odd, how he could read him, or how he felt he could anyway, how he could tell now when he was holding back from doing something Tio might find weird, or might break the rules of them being friends first.

He worried, occasionally, if having said they’d be friends ‘first' might be cruel, it sort of insinuated something else would definitely happen when for all he knew it might not, he might never feel like that about Kin and giving him false hope wasn’t something he’d ever intend to do. But he just frowned, well, pouted really, glancing off to the side and flicking a very burnt chip at him, bouncing off his hand and onto the already grubby floor, Kin clearly about to throw one back only to glance at the staff who’d been watching them warily all night and cease in his movement, eating it instead.

 

* * *

 

It was still fairly early but it was already beginning to get dark outside, winter drawing closer every night and the people on the streets thinning out just a little, Tio watching through the large window he faced absently, eyes following the mother with the small baby, the old couple, the man running past. Kin’s voice broke through his lazy haze easily, and for some reason he assumed he’d been looking outside too despite him facing the opposite direction, “Tio, is that Mizuki?”

“Hm, where?” He turned to follow his nod, eyes widening in shock then narrowing as he frowned, noticing the way the bartender was lazily, blearily putting curly fries into his mouth, with a significant lack of coordination that meant only one thing. “Oh god, he’s drunk.”

“On a Tuesday? At,” he paused to check his coil, frown deepening as he locked the screen and finished that thought. “Half seven?”

“He’s got a bit of a drinking problem, not a big deal,” Kin looked like he disagreed, watching Mizuki try to take a bite of burger, almost all the filling falling out and actually grimacing as the bartender observed it blearily, bacon and most of the burger flopping out from the bun. “What should we do?”

“From the point of view of your friend, or of a person uninvolved in your business?”

“Whichever.” He didn’t much care now that he and Mizuki weren’t exactly friends, or that he’d been an absolutely hurtful, self-centred piece of absolute shit. Okay, so maybe he cared a _little_ , but he wanted to know what Kin would do, knowing already that they should definitely make sure he was okay and possibly drag him home, just regarding Kin and blanching a little as his expression fell even more, surely a sign that nothing good was happening behind him.

“I think we should make sure he’s okay, he mig- Oh, I think he’s asleep. In his burger.”

“Seriously?” he turned then, too fast, able to see the staff at the tills muttering to themselves, not looking pleased, regarding his boss and apparent best friend where he did actually seem to be asleep, or perhaps just resting on the wrapper his food had come in. “Oh my god, okay, operation deal with the drunken mess, we should get him home before they chuck him out and he ends up passed out in a back street or something.”

“Yep,” he stood first, Tio stuffing the last mouthful of his burger into his mouth because drunken friend or not, he’d paid for the damn thing and he wanted it, he hadn’t wanted his evening to be ruined by Mizuki being inconsiderate again purely for a late night snack but he hadn’t been given that choice. Not even late night in fact, and although he’d pretended not to be worried about him being paralytic at barely eight pm, this was bad even for him and as they heaved him out of his chair and carried him out, he felt nervousness worming in his gut.

 

* * *

 

They hadn’t locked the door and that had probably been their first mistake, Kin’s eyes flicking to it immediately as the handle turned, Tio still busy chewing on his lip, regarding the paralytic bartender they’d basically dragged home. So he didn’t see him arrive, not bothering to close the door behind him nor retreating when he realised he had unwitting company, just nudging at Mizuki’s foot, raising an unimpressed eyebrow when he didn’t so much as move.

“The fuck happened to him?”

Then of course, he turned around, looking away from his friend and meeting yellow eyes and blue hair, taking in his bruised cheek and just turning hard suddenly, his tone had been unimpressed and a little bit disparaging and he really didn’t appreciate that. Tio swallowed hard and he didn’t know what would have happened without Kin’s hand on his shoulder, holding him back or reassuring him, he didn’t know, he just grit his teeth and ignored the uncaring way Sly poked at Mizuki’s ankle, frowning.

He figured he may as well tell the truth, voice completely cold as he spoke and not even a little emotional, explaining as plainly and briefly as he could; he didn’t want to spend a single second of his time talking to Sly. “He got drunk and passed out in a burger place.”

“Seriously? Dude’s more fucking messed up than me.”

“That would be difficult,” this was Kin, feeling Tio shake under his palm and squeezing for a second, releasing to let him continue covering Mizuki up with the blanket, disappearing into the kitchen and eying Sly warily as he put a washing-up bowl next to his head.

“And who the fuck are you? His boyfriend?” He gestured to Tio then and the jerk of his head wasn’t nice, the judging, condescending sneer of his lips rubbed Kin up the wrong way and his words were hard, defensive.

His tone was met with equal aggression, more tightly held in and controlled better but there nonetheless, lip curling up the tiniest bit and Tio surprised to admit he was a little intimidating like this, without his wobbling smile and dimpled cheek. “His friend.”

“Whatever you say, no need to get pissy.”

He was in all honesty, behaving like a spoiled high school student, notably a female one, the kind of girl he’d seen in bad American movies, who drove flashy cars and broke people down with snide remarks and displeased expressions, a touch of that cliquey, attention seeking behaviour in his tone. He even went far enough as to check his nails when he finished, as if they were proving so dull to him there was really nothing else to do but check how broken and filthy they were, eyes snapping up the second Tio spoke. His behaviour was meant to evoke a reaction and he knew that, but even so he felt himself get offended, not for himself though, he was irritated on Kin’s behalf, annoyed he’d speak to him like that, like he was just dirt on his shoe and unworthy of his breath.

“There’s nothing here for you, why don’t you just get out?”

“Tio-“ There was irony in the cautious tone in his voice, warning him to be careful, to back off, because when Kin defended him it was fine, but the other way round and nobody expected it, Kin didn’t need defending and for a second he felt a hot flash of anger at being babied like that, at being seemingly not allowed to stand up for his friend.

“No, he’s right, it’s funny though, because there’s more here for me than there is for you, hm, _Tio_?” Every word was scathing, carefully manipulated and wound together like fine silk to be as offending, as prying and insulting as it could be, to do the most hurt with the least words. It was a sneaky way to fight, to work out peoples insecurities and throw them back at them in words that somebody else might not get but that would wound the recipient deep, stirring anger or tears or whatever he wanted. “But I suppose I can come back another day, pity, I’d love to hang about with you and your little _friend,_ but I have better things to do than talk to losers.”

He didn’t like that, didn’t like the way he’d glanced Kin up and down with a sneer then inclined his head as he’d almost spat the word friend, he’d worked him out already, had seen him jump to defend Tio and worked things out. But the second in command had been the victim of Sly’s mental probing before and it felt horrible, he wouldn’t let Sly do the same thing to Kin, to use his feelings, things he couldn’t help, against him. “Likewise.”

 

* * *

 

Kin waited until he was gone to speak, apartment door left ajar in his wake and a mood thicker than syrup trailing behind him with every step he took, Mizuki completely unaware of the chaos he was causing as he just twitched in his paralytic slumber.

“You okay? I’ve never seen you like that before.”

He could have said anything right then, any combination of words, he could have ignored Sly’s appearance completely, finished getting Mizuki settled then suggest they both just go home, he could have called Sly a cunt and made him laugh, but no. He asked if he was okay, he made it sound once again like Tio was some delicate flower who couldn’t stand up for himself and would crack after one nasty conversation with the object of Mizuki’s desires.

It pissed him off.

“I’m fine! I can defend myself, alright? I don’t need you looking after me!” Then followed the silence and honestly what had he been expecting? Self-righteous anger, ungrateful spite flooding him and pouring out as fast as it had come, leaving his tongue spongy and dry like cake with too little frosting, Kin just watching him silently, expression unchanged.

“Sorry.”

But he hadn’t wanted him to say that either, wasn’t entirely sure what he _did_ want, but knew that hadn’t been it, just nodded like he’d actually needed to apologise, like he’d deserved that word of guilt even as he was sure he was the only one feeling that in the room right now.

“He’s not going to choke on his puke, is he?”

“He’s on his side, he should be fine now,” they were pretending his outburst hadn’t happened and that was the way he’d always liked it, his occasional explosions of anger needed to be ignored, that he could be less than perfect was always shut away in a closet of things he’d rather not speak about. But for some reason these days Kin seemed to be rattling the handle.

“Let’s go then. We’ve got rounds with him in the morning and it’s getting late.” No it wasn’t, it was barely nine at night and Kin knew that even as he nodded and followed Tio out, watching him flick a lamp on and the main light off, watched as he didn’t cover exposed feet with the blanket and as he blatantly, deliberately ignored the bartender.

They walked home in near silence twice as frosty as the ground was getting underfoot, and they parted in silence, Kin not offering to walk him the rest of the way and Tio not wanting it anyway. Meanwhile Mizuki slept on, blissfully unaware of the evening he’d ruined and the people he was isolating himself further from with every loud snore.

 

* * *

 

“Get up,” his voice wasn’t soft, not the apologetic, guilty one he’d usually use when waking somebody up and it seemed he sounded so harsh that even Kin looked surprised, lingering awkwardly in the doorway.

So it was certainly not a nice awakening, in fact he jerked into consciousness abruptly, eyes snapping open then immediately shutting as both bright sunlight and light from the bulb almost directly above his head shone right into his eyes, turned on deliberately, maliciously, by Tio himself, who stood over him looking distinctly unimpressed.

“We have rounds in half an hour, get ready.”

“Tio, wha-?” The blanket that had seemingly been over him was yanked off, cold air rushing over him, still fully dressed and unable to remember much more than drinking way more than was advisable, wondering why he seemed so angry and what had happened, not even having to ask before he was telling him.

“Me and Kin were just sitting in Maji Burger, eating our food, minding our own business, when who does Kin spot, but _you_. Unconscious with fucking pickles stuck to your head,” that wasn’t entirely true, but Kin could see Tio was seriously pissed off and Mizuki would hardly remember it to object, voice getting more acidic as he continued, just scowling at him and face harder than he could recall it ever being.

“Oh no,” he groaned, his voice was too loud and he winced every single time he spoke, seeming a little shriller than always and head pounding when he sat up, stomach churning unhappily and spying his washing up bowl by his feet, leaning forwards to see its contents and almost retching.

“Oh no is right, so we had to drag you back here, through the streets, at not even eight at night. Paralytic, throwing up everywhere, in fact I’m amazed you didn’t piss yourself.”

“Thank you,” he was exhausted, had a horrific hangover and felt so terrible physically that he didn’t even register the fact he should definitely feel bad morally too, for having made such a fuss and for having worried them, inconvenienced them, for ruining their night which had presumably been nice until they spotted his drunken ass.

“Oh you’re welcome, now get up, you have a job to do.”

“You’re mean in the morning,” he grumbled, head lowered as he stood and his stomach jerked abruptly, holding a hand to it and wincing as the urge to retch came strongly, not registering the disbelieving eyebrow raise from Kin or Tio’s incredulous expression. At least not until he looked up and flinched at the sheer irritation on his face, wandering towards the bathroom and half apologising as he went, “which is reasonable because I’m an ass and ruined your night, right, right, yes. I’ll go shower just…”

He waved vaguely around the room, head spinning too hard for him to form the offer to make themselves comfortable, hearing what he could only describe as an audible scowl from one of his guests and the sound of footsteps moving from carpet to tile.

 

* * *

 

Tio just sighed, anger leaving his face and looking tired, weary of having to look after Mizuki like he was an annoying child or younger sibling, “want a coffee?”

“In somebody else’s house?”

“Best friends, remember? I’m used to helping myself to his shit,” he shrugged but Kin still looked unsure, smiling and concreting his offer with something sure to wash away his discomfort, probably uncomfortable at just being there, having seen him sleep and being too involved in his life for somebody who barely knew him. “I’m having one.”

“Alright then.” He agreed easily and Tio smiled, noticing the hand come up to, presumably, rest on the small of his back as they headed into the kitchen, watching as it faltered and the gesture died, biting his lip for a second before deeming it unimportant. “Bet he’s feeling terrible right now.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, there was an empty vodka bottle in his room so who knows how much he’d had,” he shrugged, because he didn’t care if Mizuki had the worst hangover of his life, he was still a responsible adult with a job and people relying on him, employees and friends, people he needed to stay functioning for. Plus the idea of the bartender in pain was more than a little pleasing to him and he wondered for a second if he was a terrible sadist or if anybody would feel the same after what had happened between them. “It doesn’t matter really, you take milk and sugar?”

“Both.”

“Hmm,” he drew the hum out, glad Mizuki was gone now and feeling the angry tension flow through him into the teaspoon he used to neatly measure instant coffee out into their mugs, no time to brew using the machine. “Thought you were more a black coffee kinda guy.”

“Oh? I guess you think I’m sweet enough already,” it was cheesy and dumb but it worked, lightening the mood a little and Tio huffing a disbelieving laugh as he shrugged, declining to answer because he supposed Kin was kinda sweet.

“More the two jobs thing, figured you’d need the kick of it, working the day and then nights too,” he hadn’t realised at first that Black Needle wasn’t Kin’s only job, in fact he only had fairly recently when he’d arrived for his shift with a burn up his forearm and explained he got it at work. He’d elaborated among making drinks and taking payment that he waited tables at a café during the day then worked at the bar at night, not explaining why but making some subtle references to rent that Tio just nodded at, deciding not to pry.

“Nah, I don’t like bitter things, I just want the caffeine so I’m more of an energy drink person,” more smiles, reflected back in the metal of the breadbin Tio faced, pouring freshly boiled water into both mugs, spooning in a little too much sugar for himself, because if he didn’t like bitter things then he’d chosen the wrong person to befriend.

But fingertips were warm and fleeting on his own as he handed it over, spoons left in the sink because Mizuki should be perfectly able to wash them, should have been able to offer them drinks himself instead of retching in the bathroom, noise filtering through the door and Tio stubbornly ignoring it.

They headed into the living room and sat on the couch after checking it wasn’t wet with vomit or urine or anything else unsavoury, Kin carefully shunting the slopping contents of the washing up bowl across the carpet and sitting a little stiffly on the couch.

“Tio,” he acknowledged his noise with a hum, glancing up from both his mug and his thoughts to find Kin staring into the sick bucket as if it contained mysteries he was unable to solve, frowning as he continued. “I know he said thank you, but wouldn’t sorry have been more appropriate?”

“Obviously, but like you said, he’s a shit friend, he’s probably just thinking about himself as usual,” and they didn’t know that Mizuki had cracked open the bathroom door, could hear, didn’t know he was frowning and re-evaluating himself once again, because yes, that was exactly what he was doing, it was what he always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Designs, updates, ficart and other things of interest- [here](http://minky-way.tumblr.com/tagged/intravenous-series)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist @ [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/minky-way/03-infected)

“I told him I love him.” He hadn’t asked for explanation, nor was it likely that he would, but Mizuki knew he was interested even if he did pretend it was the last thing on his mind, and he knew he deserved to know why he’d been in that state, not that it was unusual these days. He just nodded slowly, as if he’d expected exactly that, leaving Mizuki to wonder what he thought about it, whether he thought he was an idiot or if he sympathised.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”

“Not massively,” he smiled then, ruefully, trying to make this an amusing situation they could laugh about, there hadn’t been enough laughter lately and he missed it, he’d never liked long silences and this one was painful. “Could have been worse though.”

“I’d imagine so,” and like that, the conversation was over, Tio’s wonderings were confirmed as accurate and he went back to his job, looking through the stock order Mizuki was about to submit and ensuring all the things he needed for piercings were accounted for. “You probably shouldn’t have told him.”

“I know.” He let the tense silence reign a little longer, maybe even enjoying it as Mizuki felt the air in his lungs begin to boil, scared to even breathe out let it piss him off more and lead to further arguments or even more of this silent treatment that he deserved yet did not want.

“I need more gloves than that, and I’m allergic to latex,” the second was tacked on and he somehow managed to sound let down even as his tone was even and carefully weighted, because Mizuki should have definitely known that but it hadn’t merely slipped his mind, he just didn’t care enough to know.

“Right, of course you are, you need the nitrile ones, right?” That was a guess, he’d glanced down the list of options and seen it, hoped it had been correct and not the other possibility, wondering if Tio knew he’d guessed as he hummed tensely in agreement.

“Mm-hm.”

 

* * *

 

 

Again with the silent treatment, with being ignored for having done something wrong when this time it wasn’t even that terrible, he hadn’t slept with another enemy, not that there really were any on the island worthy of that title _but_ Sly. All he’d done was go on a drunken bender and end up asleep in a fast food place early in the evening. That was surely no big deal, or not enough of an issue for anybody to hold long grudges, but it seemed he was wrong again because Tio was damn sure holding a grudge and Kin certainly had some issue with him too.

But then he supposed Kin’s issue was a direct result of Tio’s issue so it wasn’t really a _real_ issue but now he’d thought the word issue so much it made him feel queasy, only realising then that Tio had been staring at him this whole time and not the tablet in his hand.

“You need to quit drinking,” he opened his mouth and for some reason Tio anticipated laughter, a nonchalant remark that it wasn’t _that_ bad, clarifying a second later and voice just as stern as he almost reprimanded him. “I’m serious, Mizuki.”

He wasn’t going to laugh, this wasn’t funny and he knew that, forgetting the night before and waking up with no memory of how he’d made such a mess or when he’d ended up falling asleep wasn’t funny, it was sad, and pathetic, and increasingly scary as he fell into the routine of it. “Yeah I know, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

“Then what am I supposed to be?” He batted back as soon as he could, ball back in Tio’s court and him not looking keen to even go near it much less respond and let Mizuki be in charge of this, just adjusting his hold on the tablet and frowning. No, not frowning, that disappointed gaze, like he’d really expected more from him, Mizuki feeling increasingly frustrated because how was he meant to know what he wanted when he was so evasive?

“It doesn’t matter. So what are we doing about Beni-Shigure? Are we really just ignoring that they disappeared then forgot all about it?”

The conversation shift was so obvious it hurt, just licking his lips and inclining his head, exhaling through pursed lips and feeling tightness in his chest he didn’t like, nervousness surrounding him constantly and eyes flickering to the backlit bottles on the shelf beside him. “I guess, I don’t know what else we can do. It’s weird, and suspicious, but unless Koujaku or anybody remembers anything there’s nothing we can do but keep an eye on them.”

“So basically, there’s nothing we can do?”

“No.”

“Awesome,” and with that final, sarcastic comment, he pulled his hoodie back on as if the conversation were already over, as if that weren’t cold and childish, as if he wouldn’t normally have stayed longer after walking all the way there. “See you tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah, are you in at sev-“ But the door had already slammed.

 

* * *

 

 It was cold. And that was a remarkably bland way to describe the day and a depressing way to start it, but it was the truth and in that moment he felt it more than anything else, having woken up shivering and with his nose running. Or perhaps it had been the sudden hunger pang of his stomach that had him abruptly awake and grunting in pain, stabbing burn fading as soon as it came and just leaving him nervous to drift off again.

He was hungry too, cold and hungry, and what dull, basic things to feel, blinking crusts out of his eyes and wiping at his face with fingers that had been pressed into his armpits all night, trying to stay warm even though it must be nearly winter by now. The light through the broken roof of the warehouse was cool and crispy like the leaves that fell in the park like area of the island, the only place things really grew except in occasional window boxes that would surely be left to shrivel and rot soon.

He knew that maybe his time here was growing shorter, that soon he’d have to bundle up his selfish pride and childish refusal and walk the long walk to his Grandmas, not more than twenty minutes away. He’d have to knock on the door because he wasn’t quite sure where his key was, he’d have to remain there, sober and warm but feeling so stilted and trapped, the comfort of his bed and a hot shower would make him wish he was freezing with frost growing on his lashes instead.

He supposed, for just a second in his sleep hazed mind, that he could go to Mizuki’s tonight instead, could fuck him then spend the night in his bed where the scent of him would stick to his clothes not as poisonous as gentle lavender and talcum powder would. But then he remembered and it always flowed back when he least expected it, rolling over to bury his face into his flat pillow, material damp everywhere but where his head had rested all night, tossing and turning in restless, shivering sleep.

So he couldn’t go to Mizuki’s, because Mizuki loved him, and he couldn’t go to Grandmas, go home, because she hated him and he didn’t know how long he could deal with either, perhaps a compromise, to sneak into the old ladys while she was already asleep five nights a week. But then to be at the bartenders the other two spoke more of selfish, cruel stupidity than anything else, to be close to him now he knew what he did was more vicious than he was and as much as he hated Mizuki for what he felt he also didn’t want him to hate him altogether.

He was confused, the hunger and cold were making his thoughts fuzzy and he moved to more practical things, thinking of his food cupboard, remembering with a sense of dulled amusement eating the last thing in there the day before. Money then, all spent on the cigarettes that wouldn’t do much but mask the hunger for a couple of hours, he didn’t even have alcohol that would knock him out for a while.

He had to go to is Grandma’s, and sit there awkwardly in the room that was both his and not, and do laundry and wash clothing Mizuki had gifted him, and sit eating dinner in stony silence with his family who hated him, watch her staring at his too large hoodie and wondering who he’d stolen from this time.

 

But he had to leave his warehouse eventually, stalking out onto the streets in a bad mood and stiff with cold, looking for people he could pick pocket or outrun, usually a combination of both was the best. Or maybe he’d try and find a store he had yet to shoplift from, though the list was small and usually they didn’t so much as let him past the threshold, his stomach was grumbling and he was beginning to feel light headed from it when a confident, almost cocky voice spoke up from behind him.

“You’re Sly Blue.”

“Yeah, well done. Who the fuck are you?” He didn’t bother turning, just gave him a quick glance out the corner of his eye and continued picking the mans pocket, gleefully examining the decent sized pile of bills he’d had in there, silently thanking him for passing out on the street. Alcoholics were always such easy pickings and they’d never remember having had money when they woke up, he knew where they hung out, which bars they went to, they were his best source of income.

“Noiz.”

“Right, something you want?”

“Same as everyone else.”

He turned round properly then, sliding his stolen wad of cash into his pocket and regarding him, looking him up and down, judging him wannabe street trash and a damn sight too young for him to consider doing anything like that, even Sly had morals, loose though they were. “I don’t suck off kids, sorry.”

“Fight me.”

“What?” He was incredulous, amazed at how brazen this damned teenager was being, he couldn’t be more than fourteen and wasn’t exactly heavily built even if he was bigger than Sly, it wasn’t like that was difficult after all. His breath almost came out as a hiss and he faltered in lighting his cigarette, eventually managing and blowing smoke into his face, almost impressed when he didn’t so much as flinch, just stood there, stubborn and not budging an inch.

“In Rhyme, fight me.”

“Why would I do that? Besides, it’s not like you can just demand I fight you and Usui will turn up. Sorry kid, not gunna happen.” He turned to leave then, but his arm was grabbed and there was something desperate in the kids voice, there’d have to be to dare lay a hand on him, turning incredulously with a dangerously raised eyebrow he didn’t even seem to notice.

“What if I told you I can summon her whenever.”

“Sounds like you’re chatting shit.”

“I’m not. Want me to prove it?” That was intriguing and he paused, regarding him again, he had a mop of what he presumed was short blonde hair poking out from under his stupid ass hat which had earflaps and fluffy tassels, his outfit was in some outlandish shade of green and navy. But most interesting were the piercings that covered him, his lip, his eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, and when he looked down to find his hands covered in bandages he saw the glint of silver there too. His lime eyes were piercing and there was no hint of a lie in them, they were interesting, this whole thing was interesting, and if he was telling the truth then this could work out very well for him.

“You know what? I’m bored, so I’ll humour you, but if you’re fucking with me I’ll kick your teeth in.”

“Okay, follow me, I need a bigger space to summon her.”

 

* * *

 

“So do it,” he demanded, watching as he pissed around on the flashiest looking coil he’d ever seen, staring at him blankly even as one hand typed out numbers and letters so rapidly it made his eyes hurt. “But I just wanna see, I’m not fighting you, I’ll do it some other time.”

“You want money?”

“What?”

“Money, I’ll pay you to play me.”

“Hm,” that sounded promising, he didn’t quite understand why this kid would be dumb enough to pay him for something he did for free often enough, but he had the feeling that going against the strongest on the island must have temped him into such stupidity, just nodding his head at the coil. He’d been on guard at first as he led him through narrow, fenced in alleyways to the larger open area they were in now, buildings rising high on all sides and just a narrow path under twisting pipes a way to escape. But he’d immediately begun setting something up and he figured that perhaps he was really serious about it, but still, he wasn’t one to sit and be patient. “Show me first, then we can talk business, alright, kid?”

“I’m not a kid,” Sly was about to open his mouth to say how entirely wrong he was, when the floor disintegrated under him in the way he recognised and his stomach jolted in a way that should be unpleasant but that he’d always enjoyed. The buildings and sky above them faded into nothing, replaced with a Rhyme field he didn’t recognise, floors patterned with the same design of his cuboid belt and sky made of pixelated squares overlaid with fluffy 2D clouds.

He turned to face him, to express reluctant but genuine amazement, feeling incredibly impressed but not planning on letting him know that, realising just as he saw him that Usui was nowhere to be seen but the game was happening anyway.

But then of course he saw him and laughed so hard he almost had a coronary because the dumb fucker was wearing a fucking rabbit head costume, a rabbit, although he had to admit it was more sinister than it was cute, but the apparent bunny obsession was hilarious.

The game died quickly and they were back on the pavement with a swooping of his stomach he hadn’t actually expected, inhaling in shock before turning back to Noiz and biting his lip in amusement, remembering how dumb he had looked in the lab coat.

“Something funny?”

“Got a real thing for rabbits, don’t you?” He didn’t give him a chance to reply, just waving for him to follow, figuring that if he had money the least he could do was help him score some weed, or maybe something heavier, he’d have to see how he reacted to the idea. “Come on, kid, I think I’ll keep you around.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So,” he spoke slowly, too busy rolling a fat joint to really be able to talk too, carefully inserting the roach and twisting it closed skilfully, licking it shut and twisting one end shut, ready to light it. “What’s with that fucked up accent you got? You foreign or something?”

He didn’t respond to the taunting, just watched as Sly carefully lit up his precious joint, enough weed for a good couple more nestled in his pocket courtesy of his generosity, seemingly willing to do pretty much anything for a chance at a match with him. “I just moved here.”

“Wait, wait, you _chose_ to come live in this shit hole?” He paused to laugh then, choking on acrid smoke, it was an ugly sound and probably looked a little bit mad but he didn’t mind, coming back from his hilarity at what a ridiculous thing that was to see Noiz regarding him as if it were a perfectly normal choice to have made. “You know you can’t leave, right? Nobody can, even you’re not rich enough for Platinum Jail.”

“I wanted to Rhyme.”

He exhaled faster than he would have liked to, barely even feeling the buzz of the THC hitting his brain, genuinely surprised at his stupid reason, because sure, Sly loved Rhyme but he wouldn’t move to somewhere like this, especially without being able to leave again. “You came here just for a game? Fucking kids.”

“Not a kid.”

“Mm-hm, sure you’re not. Want a drag on this?” He nodded his agreement and toked on it like a pro, surprisingly Sly more the longer he spent with him, wondering absently if maybe he was older than he looked, or if he really was just as street wise as Sly and hid it better. His clothes were bizarre admittedly, but clean and without holes or mess, but then if he’d only just moved he guessed that made sense, he hadn’t had time to be acquainted with the islands rougher side just yet.

“So what do you do? You must make your money somehow.”

“Information broker,” he exhaled smoke in a neat, thin plume and Sly almost beamed as he handed the joint back, feeling light headed and not only because of the heady weed smell in the air. Yeah, he was _definitely_ keeping Noiz around.

 

* * *

 

“It’s nearly Christmas,” Sly glanced over then, regarding him calmly and noticing how little his face had changed as he spoke, belying neither excitement nor dread for the occasion, just stating a fact and accepting the bottle of cheap mixed alcohol they were sharing.

“Mm-hm, tis the season to carry around large wads of money I can steal.” There was childish glee in his voice, reaching into his pocket for the shiny, silver-wrapped packet of fresh cigarettes he had and waggling his eyebrows, raising the tiniest quirk of the foreigners lip, the closest to a smile he’d come so far. He offered one over to Noiz out of courtesy more than anything else, part of their unspoken deal, if one had cigarettes and the other had alcohol, they’d split both as evenly as they could, same for the other way around and for other things too, like weed or the very rare gram of coke Sly could get his hands on.

“You going to see family?” His hands were always wrapped in bandages and although Sly wondered why and if they were even necessary he also knew Noiz wasn’t exactly keen to share anything about himself, deeming it not worth the hassle of asking and losing not only their companionship but also his information.

“That might be difficult.”

“Why, they dead?” There was no tact in his questions but then there never was, like he hadn’t really realised that emotions were a thing, that you could ask something in a gentler way, he was pretty emotionally fucked to be honest, though Sly couldn’t talk. He didn’t even know if he could blame it on Noiz’s age or whether it had been something to do with whatever upbringing had led him to flee home by himself and end up here purely because he wanted to Rhyme.

He considered his question for a second, doing a quick mental sum, they’d left when he was about five and he was eighteen now, he’d heard from them for a little while but contact had completely died when the island was closed off, just after his seventh birthday. He just shrugged calmly, considering that they well could be and if they were he doubted he’d be bothered much, “dunno, maybe.”

“How do you not know?”

“My adoptive parents fucked off travelling and abandoned me, so they could be dead, and my Grandma, who isn’t my real Grandma, lives past Aoyagi Street.” Noiz had no idea where that was, he was fairly new to the island after all and lived somewhere off in the nicer area of the island, behind the rows of shops and eateries Sly never went near, he had no need to go to the old residents district. He didn’t even blink, didn’t so much as bat an eyelid as he spewed his past like he went around doing it all the time, not reacting in sympathy or pity, which was obviously a bonus but still, he was oddly stilted. “But anyway, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Family, you got any?”

 “You know, if you’re adopted it’s kinda obvious she’s not your real grandma.”

“Nah, she adopted my… Mother.” He noticed he’d avoided the question, and for once in his life he decided not to pry.

 

* * *

 

It was a dumb decision, but then so were all his decisions so he supposed he shouldn’t really have expected much more than this, the weird quasi-argument that had broken out within ten minutes of him arriving. Mizuki had never really been a snide, sarcastic kind of person but after too many badly concealed jabs and reminders of what had happened, Sly had snapped, because he had wanted to ignore this and Mizuki just wasn’t letting him.

“What did you think was going to happen? That I was going to say I loved you too and we’d embrace and everything would be happy? Because that’s not how life works.”

“I thought you’d say something.”

“I did,” it might not have been what he wanted to hear, but then you couldn’t always have what you wanted and Sly knew that more than most people, if the bartender had issue with his response it was a little late to bring it up now.

“You said _okay.”_

“Yeah,” he shrugged, not seeing the problem with that, at least he’d made it obvious that he’d heard him, he could have totally ignored him and he had to admit he’d been sorely tempted, but instead he’d replied as neutrally as he could. He could have freaked the fuck out and started yelling and spitting bile around, but he’d decided it was safer not to make it obvious how much his words had bothered him. Mizuki was ungrateful to be honest, to not have noticed how considerate the whole thing had been, just finishing his sentence with a lie neither of them believed. “I don’t give a shit how you feel, it doesn’t affect me.”

He’d been faced away from him, reaching for his lighter but he turned back round with an incredulous scowl that was ugly, almost dropping the light in the process, “oh bull _shit_ , you run when you get scared and it’s been _weeks_.”

“Maybe I had stuff to do.” He liked the sound of that, it made him sound like a businessman who’d just been overwhelmed with paperwork and hadn’t been able to drop in to see an old friend, or like he had any kind of purpose at all.

“Like what? Get high and suck dick?”

“Maybe, what, are you jealous?” His voice had faltered for the tiniest second before he spat out his comeback with so much acid it tore his throat apart on the way up, tasting blood and remembering with a sinking feeling that Mizuki thought he was a slut. He’d been called it before, and worse, by a lot of people, but somehow when Mizuki had called him it, branded him with that title, it had made him feel a hell of a lot worse than when anybody else had said it. “You shouldn’t be, I don’t even charge you. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Oh believe me, I don’t. But I don’t blame you.”

“Don’t blame me for what?”

“Not coming back, I don’t blame you.”

“Really?” Seeking him out, searching for the lie he knew was there, prying and poking and digging in with sharpened nails to try and get to the truth because he knew that wasn’t it and how could Mizuki not blame him when he blamed himself for this entire debacle? “Kinda seems like that’s horse shit.”

He just shook his head and Sly noticed then that his hands were shaking, not with rage or tension or anything else, it was subtle, more of an ever present tremor than anything else, suddenly the whites of his eyes were fascinating and he just studied him, barely hearing his next sentence. He’d registered two things, the bags under his eyes were bigger and blacker, and he hadn’t been drinking.

“It was stupid of me to say anything.”

His noise was more like a snort than anything, raising his eyebrows as if silently agreeing, turning his stare back onto him a second later, gaze calculating and a little curious, the yelling stage seemingly over and some kind of reluctant agreement to forget about this hanging over them, “so, what now?”

“I don’t know, I guess you do what you always do and pretend this never happened and I pretend too.”

“Hm, sounds good to me.” He paused for a moment, taking a drag of his cigarette and regarding the other quizzically before pausing, “we’re still gunna fuck, right?”

“Yeah, Sly, we’re still gunna fuck,” he didn’t mean to sound as amused as he did, he meant to sound exasperated and to express his disagreement with that idea, but Sly’s question had been so bizarrely, sweetly innocent that he hadn’t been able to help his wave of fondness. If all else failed, at least Sly would still stay the same, that was a blessing in disguise he supposed, but the very issue here was that he didn’t change.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, I just had a thought.”

“Be careful, you know how dangerous that is,” Tio grinned mischievously even as he walked into the kitchen, door still open behind him so he could hear his unimpressed reply, opening the fridge and locating four beers, both too lazy to return once they’d finished the first one, uncapping them neatly and dumping the lids into the trashcan.

“You’re hilarious, really. But when’s your birthday?”

“Um, 17th October,” he’d just been surprised at the odd question at first, but as he sat down suspicion seeped into his voice, elongating the word curiously and suddenly realising Kin wouldn’t be best pleased with his answer. “Whyyy?”

“Wait, wait, as in, you just had it?”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” he sounded completely outraged, as if he’d had a child and kept it a secret instead of just allowed his birthday, and not even an important one, to go by without causing any kind of fuss.

“I mean, most people already knew, I don’t ever make a big deal of it so I just got a couple drinks bought for me, that’s it. It’s not like just you missed it, everybody did. I _let_ everyone miss it.”

“So you just pretended it hadn’t happened and did nothing?” He sounded like that wasn’t okay, and while Tio understood his reasoning, he also didn’t quite understand why he’d be so bothered, perhaps he was just annoyed he hadn’t even been able to say happy birthday to him.

“You make it sound terrible, but no, I went to my mothers and she cooked for me,” he shrugged then, thinking to himself again that he really needed to start visiting his family more often, but amongst work and friendships to upkeep and other things it always fell to the wayside. But going round for his birthday was tradition so he followed along as normal, bringing flowers for his mother and chocolates for his sister and hearing them complain half-heartedly as they did every year. “It’s all I normally do.”

“Hm, that’s acceptable I guess,” Tio was about to ask what that meant exactly and what he’d consider to be more than just acceptable, but he’d continued speaking already, tone changing to gently curious, prodding but not too insistent. “I didn’t know you had family on the island.”

“Where else would they be? It’s not like anyone can leave.”

He rolled his eyes, grinning lazily and swigging from his beer, shaking his head at the cigarette box Tio offered and watching him light up, looking mildly exasperated as he continued, explaining his bizarre statement. “No, I know that, I just mean a lot of families moved away before it was closed, that’s all, I assumed you’d be the same.”

“Nah, she wanted to leave but my sister was only little then and we didn’t really have the money to either, so we just stayed. It didn’t work out too badly though so she always says she doesn’t regret it,” it felt odd to be sharing this with somebody who wasn’t Mizuki, probably the only person who knew he had a family on the island at all, even less the story behind them choosing to stay which had been repeated to Kin as a half lie. “Did your family move then?”

“Mm, well, my stepmother was never very fond of me so I didn’t really mind much, and my father just asked if I wanted to stay or not then let me do what I wanted. A family friend looked after me until she died and by then I was old enough to take care of myself.” He paused to laugh then, deliberately, as if he’d realised how heavy the topic had suddenly become, talking of families broken apart and not heard from since even though that wasn’t exactly a choice. “I swear nobody on this island has a normal family.”

“Hm, I guess not, but then I suppose it doesn’t really matter. I mean you’re doing fine without one, so’s Mizuki, so are lots of people, maybe it isn’t that big a thing.”

He didn’t respond to that, just nodded slowly and drained his beer, offering to get them new ones and Tio agreeing as if he hadn’t seen a strange, pained wrinkle grow at the corners of his lopsided grin.

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t leave his warehouse, couldn’t step into the cold outside, not now he had this label on him, this dumb thing that marked him out from everybody else, he’d rather stay inside and stew in bitterness, he suited that better.

But he was bored, there wasn’t anything to do here where he sat splayed out on the floor, legs at dumb angles and Ren on sleep mode between his feet, socks turning grey with dirt and one toenail beginning to stab through the worn material. He’d stolen a bar of chocolate from a store earlier and he was slowly eating his way through it, considering absently how little he was enjoying it, the coating on his tongue and teeth making him feel sick and the rich, sugary taste utterly off-putting.

He wasn’t avoiding Mizuki on purpose, or that’s what he always told himself anyway even though it was a lie every single time and he felt like the entire universe knew, shrugging down into his t-shirt and considering moving to get a hoodie that was too clean and fresh to be comfortable. He wasn’t sure how long it had been now, he never really had a firm grasp on the date even with a coil that could tell him if he wanted, he could have been away for weeks on only for a few days, things were a hazy mixture of drugs and hunger.

He checked the date anyway, he may as well, noticing with lack of interest that Christmas had come and gone without him really noticing, the lights in the stores and the ones of Grime indistinguishable to somebody who cared so little about either.

But still, he was bored and Mizuki had been entertainment, had been a way to pass the time and before all this love bullshit that still made him feel sick to his stomach, he’d been a pretty good person to just hang out with and Sly had never exactly been popular.

But Noiz knew where he lived now, and fuck only knew how he’d found that out when Sly sure as shit hadn’t told him and always checked for tails, but he’d heard a knock at the door and had peered through a broken window warily only to see the cocky dumbass outside. He told himself he only let him in because he could see a grocery store bag in his hand, but the truth was that he was stupidly bored and Noiz wasn’t terrible company, just another trashy street kid like him but this one had a quick tongue and he liked that.

 

They ate in silence, or rather Noiz did, Sly had always been a noisy eater, remembering in a repressed sort of way being scolded about it by his ‘father’, pushing the thought away as soon as it came and slurping louder as if to spite the very memory.

“It’s New Years Eve.”

“Huh.” He remarked calmly, wiping streaks of juice off his lips and grabbing a piece of Noiz’s chicken when he was distracted, not sure if he was bothered that the foreigner had obviously seen but chose to ignore it. “I thought that had already happened.”

“You got any plans?”

He raised an eyebrow then, because they didn’t talk about plans, not about the future and certainly not this weird small talk he was trying to make, frowning around the bottle of pocari sport he’d been thrown and swallowing down a little too much, coughing. “Nope, why, you trying to get a midnight kiss?”

He rolled his eyes and Sly liked that, it was amusing and he’d have been a little surprised if Noiz had said yes after all this insisting he wasn’t interested in Sly like that, but then he did also enjoy insisting he wasn’t a kid. “Only if you want to give me one.”

“Hm, how old are you again?”

He scowled, well it was more of a pout really, cocky, self-confident smirk of seconds ago dying and looking off to the side, muttering it like the true angst-ridden teenager he was, “fourteen.”

“Bit young for me, but, if you help me find alcohol I might feel more generous,” it was a long shot and he’d had the feeling Noiz had been joking about the whole thing, but the idea of it being New Years Eve had given him an idea he wanted to carry out, and he needed alcohol for it. “Oh, and I need to see my dealer.”

Noiz just shrugged, completely unfazed by the entire thing and just continuing to eat from his plastic container, fingers a little clumsy on his chopsticks as if he wasn’t used to using them, “alright.”

Yeah, Sly had been right, he was worth keeping around.

 

He kissed him before he left, it was a while before midnight but he’d figured a promise was a promise and he had drugs and alcohol aplenty now, way more than enough to encourage the bartender to relax and just fucking go with it.

He’d just stayed where he was, leaning against the wall and yawning first, stretching out his arms and sitting forwards, elbows crossed on his knees and hands dangling lazily in the abyss, noticing Noiz noticing him. “Still want that midnight kiss?”

“If you want to give me it,” something in his eyes had sparkled from half-distant to fully there and his grin had gotten a little thinner, sharper, Sly got the feeling he could be dangerous and if he was just a bit older he’d be willing to test that out, but as it was he just took the bottle away from damp lips and kissed them instead.

He had to push his face away with a good natured and rather tipsy laugh as he got a little too into it for a fourteen year old, ruffling his hair as had become a habit if only to see his irritated expression, “calm down, kid, I said a kiss not fucking making out.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he replied, not bothered and just letting himself be kicked out with good grace, parting ways with a raised hand of farewell and heading off to wherever he lived, an actual apartment apparently, leaving Sly to once again wonder why he was slumming it with him.

 

* * *

 

“In on New Year’s by yourself?” He enquired, tone nasty already and Mizuki just tilting his head to the side, unimpressed yet amused smile spreading across his face, because he had to admit he’d been a little bored and now his entertainment had just swanned into the room. “Little pathetic, don’t you think?”

“Doesn’t look like you have any plans either since you wound up here.”

“Oh I’ve already done everything I needed to, hit up a couple dealers, got whatever I could. Stole some booze in case in you were being stingy again. I’m all set.” He jiggled the bag at his side then and the sound of bottles clanking together rang out, muffled by clothes in a mixture of filthy and slightly less so, legs of old sweatpants that weren’t his winding around bottles he’d never paid for and would never intend to.

“Well good for you, I assume you’re not here just to brag?”

“Hm, clever too.” He remarked, feigning pride but raised eyebrows and almost sardonically rolled eyes showing he was just mocking him, albeit in his usual seductive, almost flirtatious way, tone changing rapidly. “But no, bartender, I’m here so you can fuck me into the New Year.”

“Is that so?” His smile a little pained but easy enough to ignore under the haze of alcohol and the almost taboo memory of kissing Noiz just minutes earlier, wondering how much his precious little heart would shatter if he’d known that. Or perhaps he’d taste somebody else on his lips and they’d argue again and all this love nonsense would be over and he could go back to doing what he did best, using and abusing. But he didn’t vocalise any of that, he just licked his lips and continued smoothly.

“Certainly is, you got an issue with that?”

“Hmm, not particularly.”

“You weren’t busy, or anything?” He knew he wasn’t busy, for somebody with such a hectic life he seemed to do remarkably little these days, but he liked to carry on the façade that Mizuki might be far too busy to spend time with him, to pretend he’d dropped everything the minute he’d arrived.

“Not really, just thinking about resolutions.” His voice wasn’t teasing as Sly’s had been, he answered as if it had been a genuine question and the other almost faltered, just continuing on in his silky sweet voice, bartender not even watching him carefully, seductively, make his way to the couch beside him.

“Oh? Doesn’t seem like you, so, you come up with any?” It was hard to concentrate now, to go back to the heavy, stupid thoughts of before with Sly perched on his couch and regarding him intensely, like nothing else in the room was important.

“The usual, to be better, to change things. To be a morally upstanding pillar in my community,” he’d intended that to be ridiculous and as anticipated Sly snorted with amusement, head lowered as he unzipped his bag and began removing things, Mizuki unable to see his expression but able to imagine it in perfect technicolour. “What about you?”

“You really think I’m the kind to make resolutions?” The question was rhetorical and any snarky remark he planned to make was wiped away when Ren trotted over to him to greet him, the first time Mizuki had seen the Allmate in a while, putting him into his lap where he curled up quite contently and offered his back for strokes. “They’re all about changing yourself, I think I’m pretty damn perfect already.”

_Bullshit._

But it was a damn sight easier to just roll his eyes in fond exasperation he didn’t really feel and to continue this game of theirs than it was to say he knew that was crap, that everybody wanted to change somehow and Sly more than others.

“Oh yeah, definitely. I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

“I knew you’d agree,” and it was an order rather than a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Designs, updates, ficart and other things of interest- [here](http://minky-way.tumblr.com/tagged/intravenous-series)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist @ [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/minky-way/03-infected)

He hadn’t seen Tio in a while, not to speak to anyway, of course he’d been at work with him but it was so busy these days it was almost impossible to get a greeting in before he’d got punters shoving coils in his direction and forcing him to get to work. So even at the end of the shifts where it was quiet, the bar empty and only the two of them, or sometimes three if another bartender stayed to clean up, sometimes even then he was ignored when he tried to breach the wall Tio had put up.

But today it seemed he’d be more lenient, had actually offered a small smile when he’d remade a drink his co-bartender had managed to drop during a particularly hectic period, but what to speak of was the issue and there was one thing, one guilty nugget of information in his mind that he wanted to sort out. Keeping his voice casual as if he wasn’t asking about something Tio could easily have told him about weeks ago now, hoping he hadn’t been mistaken and sure he wasn’t as he recalled how close Tio and Kin always were now.

“So, how’d the date go? Before I ruined it?”

“What date?” He regretted his words instantly, but the dumb part of him thought that could mean two things, either he hadn’t been on a date and he was majorly wrong in his assumption, or he’d been on several and didn’t know which one he was referencing, continuing even as he knew it wasn’t the latter.

“With Kin? Last year, when you found me drunk in Maji burger.”

“It wasn’t a date,” his voice was hard but Mizuki knew he was annoyed at the assumption more than he was about it having not been what he’d expected, explaining with plainly spoken words that grated against him. “He was meant to see a movie with Nobu but he got sick so I went instead.”

“Oh, sorry, I just assumed.”

“Maybe you should stop doing that.”

“Yeah, I-“ He didn’t know what he’d intended to say, words dying out and just sighing, deciding the only way to try and explain was to speak the truth blatantly, to let him know he was at least attempting to make things better, tone exasperated. “Tio, I’m trying to fix this.”

His sigh spoke of something more than tiredness, shoulders drooping and hair dishevelled with more than just a busy shift, very posture exhausted and hopeless, having given up on things between them ever getting solved. But he looked up to see Mizuki’s earnest expression and his voice softened for a second, exasperated and bitter but at which one of them, neither knew. “I know you are. Just seems like everything you do lately pisses me off.”

“I don’t mean to. To piss you off, I mean. It’s a New Year and stuff, I wanna do this one better. I know that’s a crappy reason to change or whatever but I want to try. I don’t want to be a shitty friend this year too.”

He tensed then, the movements of the mop ceased and water dripped onto his canvas shoe seemingly without him noticing, resuming too jerkily and feigned disinterest in his voice obvious, “who called you that?”

“You did. I heard you and Kin talking in my apartment, the day after you dragged me home,” he stopped mopping then but it was for good this time, dumping the mop into its bucket and standing there in the middle of the space he’d trapped himself in, surveying the wet floor around him if only to avoid meeting his eye. He knew the guilt in his own blue would be obvious and he would never have said anything that cruel if he knew he’d hear it. “You’re right, I should have apologised.”

“Bit late now.” Emotionless words, but his mouth quirked up into a little smile, just one corner tilting the way Kin’s did, pushing away that association and remembering that this was Mizuki he was speaking to, who was trying so hard to sort things out between them, clumsy as he was.

“Yeah. So, am I horribly selfish?” He worded it like a joke but he actually wanted to know, both of them ceasing cleaning up to just talk, to exist in the same space without shouting and lies and using each other’s weaknesses against them.

“Everybody is sometimes.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Tio knew what he wanted, he wanted the truth, he wanted the one who knew him best to list all of his faults one by one so maybe he could actually work on them instead of replaying the same shitty situations over and over until people got sick of him. He needed Tio to be cruel, to give him a harsh realisation that he wasn’t the perfect person he thought, that he could be as selfish and unfeeling as anybody else, that he wasn’t immune to causing others pain.

“You expect too much of people. You- You built up this little family and thought that was it, family’s forever, right?” He knew better than anybody Mizuki’s obsession with family, with finding people he could see as flesh and blood, who’d stick with him through thick and thin and never betray him, but he also knew how unrealistic that was. He had a family of his own and he damn sure didn’t hold them that high, didn’t see them as some amazing, life-changing thing, but then maybe he was ungrateful for what he had. “But, it’s not like that, you can’t just do shitty things and assume that because you see them as family they’ll be okay with it.”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Me. I was the original, right? The brother or whatever.” It had never really been said, that Tio had been like Mizuki’s brother, and if it had it sure would have made a lot of things seriously awkward, namely the issue of them fucking because that was not what brothers did but they’d never truly been that in the first place. But he knew the bartender saw him like that, if Dry Juice were like extended family, cousins and uncles and things like that, then Tio had been the closest thing to a brother he’d ever had or would ever know, and he used to feel pride at that title, at being regarded that highly, but now he knew the title meant he was taken for granted.

“Yeah, I didn’t treat you like one though, did I?” He didn’t answer that and he was glad, pausing and thinking about what he needed, about what they both needed and knowing he’d hate the results of what he was about to ask. “But, listen, if I do something shitty, or… Oh I don’t know, ask you to do something unreasonable, would you tell me? I don’t- I don’t notice, when I ask too much of people, I need somebody to tell me.”

“Sure, it’s an excuse to be mad at you, right?”

“Do you need an excuse?” He’d raised an eyebrow, but Tio was smiling now, small and reluctant, almost laughing as he retrieved his mop again and nodded up at the clock on the wall, too late an hour for a heart to heart.

“Maybe not. Come on, let’s get cleaned up, it’s late and I have a date with leftover pizza.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was rare now, for him to bump into Sly on the street, though he had to admit that was mostly for the best if not only to keep his reputation intact, he also didn’t need that sort of sudden jarring in his chest like he’d been stabbed again but a lot less painfully this time. He wasn’t sure whether this change was because Sly was more careful when he went out now, or because he himself tried to stay inside as much as possible, preferring to order in and buy enough groceries for a couple of weeks if only to mean he wouldn’t have to bother getting dressed properly.

If he’d thought it through better he’d probably realise there was something wrong with him that was a little more than just a mild infatuation and an increasingly hard to control drinking problem, but he preferred to not deal with it until he had to, and have to he eventually would.

 

So a rare venture out of the bar, to his favourite grocery store if such a thing could exist, distracted on the way by every glimpse of blue he saw that was even a vaguely similar shade until eventually he turned into an alley and slim legs unfolded to stand tall and the blue waving in the wind was the same he’d imagined all morning.

He could have been moving to allow him to pass up the narrow stairs, but he knew that wasn’t the case and manners of that sort weren’t in his nature, so he paused to regard him, scanning him up and down, noticing he looked a little less sickly than he normally did. His pale, pallid gleam seemed to have dimmed and his hollow cheeks didn’t make him think of skeletons and famine victims, but then where a space should have been behind him was suddenly filled and his eyes were distracted even as he willed them back onto Sly.

“Who’s your friend?” Calm, casual, because this was not normal and Sly was always alone and this, _this_ was why he never left the house, sudden willpower to get to the store and ignore the lure of the glinting alcohol aisle dying as the blonde tilted his head to the side and stepped closer to Sly as if he had any right to.

“Don’t you listen to anything I fucking say? I don’t have friends, asshole. He hooks me up.”

He nodded then, slowly, considering this as his eyes flittered across the others ridiculous ensemble, the hat that admittedly did match the weather even if none of his other neon green and navy accessories did. “Drugs?” He didn’t mean to sound judgemental even though he did, because Sly got high and Mizuki drank buckets, it was utter hypocrisy for him to sound like he didn’t approve when all he’d been thinking of all day was getting drunk or fighting the urge to, noticing apathetic green eyes on him and feeling a little uncomfortable at how dead they seemed.

“Information,” his voice was deeper than he’d expected, pierced lips parting to answer shortly but not to elaborate, to leave the conversation hanging there, one bandaged hand twitching about the only movement that had come from him this whole time. Despite looking like a kid, more so than Sly did, there was an oddly mature atmosphere surrounding him, like he knew far more than he should, and if he dealt in information that made a lot of sense. Sly was young too, just a teenager, but he was a brat, childish and stubborn and obviously still roiling with teenage angst, but this guy was stoic despite looking no older than about fifteen.

“Information? Hm, bet that doesn’t come cheap.”

It was obvious what he meant and Sly huffed a breathy chuckle, biting at his tongue and mouth spread open wide, he didn’t look either surprised or bothered, just nodding his head as if it made perfect sense to him. “Getting jealous, Mizuki?”

“Not particularly,” and somehow he wasn’t, he knew deep inside that what could be happening, wasn’t, that Sly wasn’t paying this kid back the way he did everybody else and that helped him feel at least a little secure.

“Sure. But luckily for you I don’t fuck kids.”

“I’m not a kid.” It was the first emotion he’d shown so far and he looked mildly irritated, forehead crinkling and lips turning down at the corners, he looked suddenly, horribly like Sly himself did sometimes with that pout suited to somebody younger than the things he had lived if not in years too.

Sly didn’t respond to that, just waved his hand vaguely and Mizuki knew this was a disagreement they’d had before, wondering who this boy was and where exactly he had come from, not exactly inconspicuous in his neon gear and with his foreign, almost white blonde hair. Maybe he was one of the Grime types who hung out in the darker parts of the island as would really be fitting for somebody like an information broker, wondering if he was dangerous, how he found out what he did, whether it was with brute force or whether he was clever at infiltrating databases and the like.

Somehow those sharp green eyes made him think the latter even as his bandaged hands made him wonder if perhaps sometimes it was the former too, just glancing him up and down once more and those eyes not moving from his face, flickering to his neck tattoo once then away again as if he’d learnt all he needed to know.

“So, what dragged you out here?”

“Grocery shopping, you know, like normal people do,” his voice had turned cold and Noiz was somehow examining everything while not moving, like he could track the cadence and resonance of their voices, hear the underlying feelings in the change of tone or pitch. He wasn’t too sure why he was so bitter suddenly, but he was, maybe just because he’d like to be able to hang out with Sly on the street but would never be able to without destroying himself.

“Wouldn’t know. But I’ll let you get on with it, wouldn’t do to be seen talking to me, would it?” He didn’t respond to that but Noiz shifted to the side as if he knew already the conversation was over, opening a path to the top he took with a self-pitying puff of throaty laughter and a roll of his eyes saying he agreed wholeheartedly.

 

He was glad of the shirt he’d left in his backpack on the way back, it hid the tell-tale clank that would betray him for anyone who cared enough to listen.

 

* * *

 

“Who was that?”

He’d waited too long to ask and they both knew it, having moved from their stairs soon after the oddly stilted exchange of meaningless words, Noiz trailing after him and slightly behind, catching up only to ask something that made it obvious he was curious out of something less than mild personal interest. No, he wanted to know who the neatly presented man with the familiar tattoo had been, the man who’d spoken to Sly with familiarity which nobody else did, who had seemed friendly until he’d seen him and had suddenly switched to frosty.

“Nobody important,” he brushed it off easily, walking them both towards his favourite noodle stand with the intention of getting his information broker and self-proclaimed rich kid to buy him food, almost certain he would, anything for a Rhyme battle after all. “Now come on, rich boy, I can’t battle you on an empty stomach.”

He didn’t respond, just flashed his new, expensive coil at the reader when prompted, watching Sly slurp down noodles and eyes narrowing the second he was distracted shoving meat into his hungry mouth, wondering why he had lied and who that guy really had been. Not that it would be difficult for him to find out after all and the identity that tattoo gave solidifying in his mind already as they headed back to Sly’s to get high at his demanded request.

 

* * *

 

 

“Mizuki.”

He hadn’t expected to see him, so his tones were warm and inviting as he walked up to the bar where he’d been lingering lazily, waiting for something to do or somebody to wander in he could talk to, Kou filling that hole perfectly. He was so glad to see somebody who might be able to distract him from the endless turning of his brain that he didn’t register the mild panic in his eyes or the anxious twitching of the arm that rested against his side. “Oh, hey, Kou, what’s up? I don’t see you in these parts oft-“

“I need your help,” That he’d interrupted him should have been the first sign that this wasn’t just some odd personal concern he felt Mizuki might be able to help him with, and he paused in his speech, joke about the toothpaste smeared down his hoodie dying on his tongue. There was something in his eyes, something in the hard set of his jaw that meant this was serious and Mizuki took a second to just regard him, the tension in his shoulders and the fierceness in his eyes.“Beni-Shigure’s in trouble.”

He observed him a second longer, eyes narrowing and feeling the horrible sense that he’d known this was coming all along, then his mouth was moving before his brain and Kou looked relieved. “You came to the right people, do I need to call the rest of the team?”

“Yeah, but let me explain first. It- It sounds totally crazy.”

 

“Tio, I need you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m busy, you’ll have to wait,” he sounded mildly inconvenienced more than anything else and Mizuki could do little but hover awkwardly in the doorway as he threaded a thin ring through a young woman’s lip. He supposed this was the result of asking Tio to let him know when he was being unreasonable, and in that case not only the timing, but the words too had been a little demanding. He finished with the usual procedure and all the bartender could think of was how worried Kou must be, worried enough to go to another team for help, friends though they were, approaching a rival meant things were serious and by the time the woman was thanking him and leaving, Mizuki felt sick.

“So, what do you need me for?”

“It’s Kou, he says something wrong with Beni-Shigure.”

“Where is he?” He was surprised at the sudden seriousness of his tone, snapping off his gloves and ditching them on his bench, barely waiting for the answer before striding past him, almost pushing him out of the way with his haste and Mizuki’s words dying behind him.

“In the back.”

 

“Kou, what happened?” He pushed the curtain to the tattoo parlour open with so much force the rings rattled and clanged against the pole, Kou reaching for him immediately and taking his hand like it was a lifeline, face pale and eyes darting between them nervously.

“I, oh God, I’m not even sure,” the calm composure he’d had when he walked in and spoke to Mizuki was gone, shattered, disintegrated into the air and pure panic was coming out now, fumbling over his words and Mizuki found himself feeling oddly jealous that he couldn’t be this honest with him. “Just, they’re gone. They’re all just _gone._ I know that sounds crazy, it _is_ crazy, but it’s true. I’ve been everywhere, I’ve asked everyone, they’ve been spirited away again, like last time!”

“Beni-Shigure?”

“Yeah, everybody’s gone again, Koujaku too. Last time it was weird but… I’m scared, Tio. I don’t know what’s happening to us.”

He didn’t know what to say and it was obvious, Kou clearly shaking now, twitching with anxiety and not stilling under the hand on his shoulder, Tio’s blue eyes regarding him with confusion and dread flowing into him as he turned to regard the other who lingered in the doorway, “Mizuki.”

“I’m calling the team. Now.”

 

* * *

 

It was like some bizarre haze, hearing Kou explain what had happened as well as he could, Tio listening for the both of them as Mizuki went through his entire, extensive phone contacts, calling everybody he could, asking how soon they could get to headquarters, this was an emergency.

The tones he was met with were oddly formal too, even when they initially picked up and thought this might just be a social call, detached and distracted, like speaking to a teacher or somebody you couldn’t really be genuine with. Turning harder and set like stone when he said it was important, that they needed to get to the bar the moment they could, cancel everything, this was an emergency and he needed them.

 

They trickled in then, some having been nearby anyway and wandering in with bags of groceries or in one case, with a small baby fast asleep in a sling carried across his front, dummy in a tiny mouth and him looking rather sheepish at the gentle taunting he received. Some others arrived in clumps, having been together already or having met up on the way, relaxed atmosphere of being with friends fading as they all, one by one, caught sight of Kou and their laughter died.

He was pale now, horribly so, he looked sickly and his skin was sallow like candle wax, hair messy where he’d been running his fingers through it and tugging on the strands distractedly, there was a hopeless atmosphere to him and he hadn’t looked at anybody even though the room was filling.

There was silence and for once they weren’t looking for Mizuki to speak, all of them watching Kou as he tried to catch his breath, exchanging quiet, soft words with Tio that they couldn’t hear even when straining for a single vowel sound. Then a supportive squeeze of his shoulder and a grateful smile that made something churn in Mizuki’s gut even as he couldn’t comfort anybody, dark eyes looking up to the team, momentarily distracted by the soft whine of the dog Jin had been walking when he’d gotten the call.

But the dog was shushed and sprawled out on the floor and temporary comfort ended, “I think Koujaku’s been kidnapped.”

The noise that erupted wasn’t an angry one, it was uneasy, maybe slightly disbelieving but somehow still one hundred percent together, unified, like somehow all of them were just one person speaking with several different voices. Mizuki wanted to call for silence, but somehow this atmosphere had pushed him onto the outskirts and he stood there instead, a silent observer at a show in a language he didn’t understand, almost fluent but not quite.

“He- No, um, I went to see Hagima this morning, and he wasn’t in even though he knew I was coming and he, he wouldn’t just skip out on me. So I thought maybe he’d gone to see Koujaku, so I went to his place, and it was… Wrong.”

“Wrong how?” Jin spoke now, his dog, more a puppy actually, lying by his feet and large eyes looking out on the scene dolefully, bored and upset at not getting any attention, regarding the discussion with as much involvement as the teams head.

“Stupid stuff, tiny stuff. Like he always folds up his Kimono a certain way and puts it on his dresser but it was on the floor, and there were mugs on his coffee table, three of them still with drinks in them, like they’d just been abandoned. But all his shoes were still there. It just, I can’t explain it but it just didn’t feel right.”

“So, maybe he got new shoes?” He knew it was an almost insensitive remark, for whoever who had said it to be so blatantly doubting the validity of his worries, but Mizuki had to admit it was at least a more logical thought than most of the ones swirling round his mind. Perhaps somebody needed to think about this in a purely realistic sense, to say again, as with last time, that there was no way an entire team of people could have gone missing, but his mind wasn’t clear right now and that one objection was shoved away fast.

“I mean, yeah, maybe. But I got nervous, so I went to see some other guys, and nobody answered, not at their doors or coils or anything, not a single one. They can’t all be busy.”

“This is what happened last time. First they disappeared for weeks, now suddenly Koujaku’s been kidnapped or something? I don’t know what’s going on, none of us do, but it’s bad, it sounds like they’ve gotten mixed up with the Yakuza or something worse. We need to try and help them out.” The group was back on him again, nodding with agreement, shuffling as if impatient to get going, to try and solve this mystery they’d had thrust upon them, Mizuki back in charge the way he liked, his team behind him and feeling better even as Kou spoke and he was relegated to the back bench in less than a second.

“Koujaku was talking with those twins, the blonde ones with the weird suits? Um, he had loads of meetings with them and stuff, they said they were making their own team and they wanted to merge them together, to be the strongest on the island. He agreed, he had to have agreed but I didn’t like it, they were odd.”

“They came to me asking the same but I was warned not to trust them.”

“By who?” Now a demand, an annoyed kind of order to be told who could have saved him from this fate, a betrayal as Mizuki hadn’t bothered to try and relay the message to them, to the team he was so close to, information he’d kept to himself and had doomed them with.

“Um, Sly Blue, actually. He must have seen them come to the bar or something, I don’t know, he just grabbed me one day and said they were bad news and I guess if even he doesn’t like them they must be pretty bad.” He nearly babbled the ending, suddenly aware he needed to defend himself even though what he was saying was innocuous enough, always covering up for this lie he was hiding from everybody, only Tio’s eyes showing anything but honest surprise he’d done something helpful. There were murmurs of assent though, because yes. Sly Blue was scum and associated with scum too, so it made sense that his word meant there was something seriously fucked up about the strange duo, Mizuki pretending it didn’t hurt to have his character trodden upon so easily.

“Yeah, well seems like he was right. Me and Koujaku disagreed about it, I told him if he joined them that I’d quit, I didn’t want to be part of it. Guess he took me at my word.”

That wasn’t like Koujaku, that wasn’t like any team leader or even any decent person, they wouldn’t drop their best friend so easily, not for anything and certainly not for a deal that seemed so perfect it had to be suspicious. “I’m sorry to come to you, I didn’t really know what else to do.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, we’ll do everything we can, they can’t have just disappeared. We’ll work something out, right, Mizuki?”

But now the eyes were back on him he wished them away, annoyed with himself at how indecisive he was, sulking when he was ignored and overwhelmed the second responsibility fell onto him again. Thoughts of Sly actually helpful for once, remembering their last meeting and eyes narrowing in contemplation, hoping he’d be less of an ass than normal so his words wouldn’t be useless. “Okay, I know somebody, an information broker, I’ll try to find him, see if he might know anything. Tio, do you and the others want to go asking around? Or to try and find any of them?”

“I’d rather stay here,” there was some surprise at the blatant way he brushed off his instructions, the cold tone he used as he issued his own orders, pretending as if Mizuki wasn’t in charge and yet nobody thinking to question his words. “Kin, Riku, can you sort it out?”

Then things happened all at once, they spoke in agreement and began arranging things between them, diving neatly into groups to go to different areas and knock on doors or ask people on the streets, the baby woke up and abruptly burst into tears, and the dog made a sudden break for freedom. Chaos it seemed, had finally descended, and between Riku ushering people outside to start searching and frantic searching for a dummy beginning as Hideaki bounced his daughter rather uselessly, Kou stood up.

Nobody looked more surprised than Jin when he realised he was the intended goal of his short walk across the slowly emptying bar, scratching his shoulder nervously as he spoke, regarding the brown dog trying to pull away from him on her lead. “Um, I know you were probably going to take her with you, but can I look after your dog while you search?”

He looked so nervous and sick that it was doubtful anybody would be cruel enough to deny him anything, but his face softened as Jin clapped him on the back, handing the lead over with a grin and watching his expression lighten a little. “Sure thing man, she totally loves attention so if you give her belly rubs she’ll love you forever. Oh, and she licks.”

Just like that, Kou had a mild comfort in the form of both the floppy eared dog and also in Tio, who’d moved to sit on the floor beside him, watching him fuss over the canine half-heartedly, both of them unintentionally freezing out Mizuki, just nodding absently as he said he was going to make a call.

 

* * *

 

He’d never phoned him before, in fact to his knowledge he’d only ever used his coil to message him nudes or otherwise bother him over text messages, so he hesitated before he pressed the phone icon and the sound of tinny ringing filled his ears. He only realised when he answered that he had no idea what to say, the truth spilling out in an embarrassingly desperate demand he knew wouldn’t be answered well if at all.

“Sly, I need your help.”

“Stubborn boner, is it?” God he could imagine him saying that, stood wherever he was and picking at his nails, maybe smoking a cigarette and smirking in amusement, thinking it was hilarious that Mizuki was this desperate, not realising it was serious and nothing to do with their usual arrangement.

“What, I- No. Your friend, the information broker, do you know where I could find him?”

“He’s not my friend. And yeah, I know where he lives,” it took longer than it should have done for suspicion, curiosity, to lace his tone, eyes narrowing even over the crackling phone line and suddenly realising he’d been too helpful without asking why, without realising the risks of that. “What do you need him for?”

“I can’t say,” he could say, they both knew that he wouldn’t even hesitate to tell Sly everything that had been going on, but out of respect for both Beni-Shigure and Kou he would try his very best not to, though he didn’t doubt he’d find out eventually anyway. “Would you just tell me? Please?”

“What’s in it for me?”

He’d expected it, but it still took him aback, staring at the coil in his hand disbelievingly as if somehow Sly would see his expression and concede defeat, just hoping his voice might make his personality diminish enough for him to be helpful. “You’re serious right now?”

“Extremely.”

“Oh Jesus _fuck_ , Sly, would you just tell me this is _really_ important,” anger was building in his voice now, genuine irritation and his tone building as he felt himself grow ready to snap because for once he needed help from the other and he’d taken enough that surely he’d be able to give even a little now.

“Alright, keep your hair on,” he sounded amused and Mizuki knew he was laughing at his desperation, finding it very funny even as the bartender realised he was in too deep, going to Sly of all people for help with something this serious. “He lives up behind that fancy bakery, Amaidesu or some shit like that, apartment building with a red door, I don’t know what number though, he just told me the twelfth floor.”

“Thank you, seriously, you’re the best.”

“I know.” The dial tone cut in after that, screeching through his frantic, erratically functioning brain painfully and not really able to register how close his lips had been to forming those three small words again, just knowing he needed to find that broker as soon as he could.

 

* * *

 

“What?” It wasn’t the politest way to answer the door, especially not to a prospective customer, but Mizuki was just glad he’d chosen the right door, not able to see much behind the mere teenager who was his only chance at help. In fact he seemed to notice his roaming eyes, shifting so more of the view was blocked, lime green eyes narrowing and legs shifting in matching sweatpants, hair messy and the same blonde Mizuki had expected, no longer covered by his hat despite the coldness of the seemingly otherwise empty building.

It hadn’t been the kind of place he’d expected to find him in when they’d first met, he seemed too young to have the sort of money needed to live in the nicer area of the island, of behind the shops and fancier cafes where members of his team often took prospective dates. But the building, despite being in good condition, seemed to be abandoned by everybody else, lights in the hallways and stairs turned off and the elevator not functioning, ominous silence of the hallways he walked making him feel like he was entering an ambush.

“You’re an information broker, right?”

“What if I am?” If anybody else had said it, it would have seemed defensive, but somehow with Noiz saying it, somehow it was almost putting himself down, saying that yes he was, but that it was no big deal, like he didn’t know Mizuki was there for that reason only, that right now it was all he cared about.

“I need information.”

He was giving him that probing stare again, eyes running down him carefully, taking in every detail, the messily tied sneakers, the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead and the relieved, anxious gleam of his eye. “How’d you find me?”

“Sly told me.”

“Sly? Hm, come in I guess,” he still didn’t sound either enthusiastic or helpful, but Mizuki didn’t really expect much more from a teenager, stepping past him and entirely forgetting what he was about to say when he took in the apartment, everything drawing his eye at once and amazed somebody could live like that. “What do you want to know?”

But he was snapped back to reality immediately, to the seriousness of this, the reason he’d asked first Sly, then Noiz for help, words blunt and to the point because he didn’t really have time to piss about with unhelpful children. “Beni-Shigure, they’ve disappeared again, I want to know where to, or what happened, or anything.”

“Alright, I can tell you. What’s in it for me?” He didn’t even hesitate, like he was so confident in his own skills that he’d known he could help without even knowing what the issue was, but then maybe he was so well informed he knew why Mizuki was there from the first moment he saw him.

“I can pay you.”

“I don’t need your money,” he almost looked scornful and the bartender was beginning to worry he was more like Sly than he seemed, knowing his morals had lowered lately but not enough, never enough to go near somebody so obviously underage, voice tentative as he responded.

“Okay, so what do you want?”

“Information.”

 

* * *

 

It was a weird thought that seemingly came from nowhere and yet made perfect sense, in fact it didn’t even scare him, he’d just glanced across the room to where Noiz sat, eating pizza and lazily playing a game on his coil with a free hand, and thought something up.

If Noiz was older he’d be exactly the type of person Sly could see himself dating, and that was a weird concept in itself, because if he did the whole monogamy thing he’d definitely starve to death in a week. But Noiz was rich, which would fix the problem, in fact if he was only a couple years older he probably would have messed about with him already, they’d already made out a few times, they got drunk fairly often as it was Sly’s favourite thing and it inevitably led to it. Fourteen though was too young for anything else and as much as Noiz didn’t act his age most of the time, Sly was in no hurry to test out just how experienced he was.

“You’re staring at me,” he didn’t even turn, didn’t so much as move his eyes, so how he’d known that was lost on Sly, thinking again that either his stare was particularly sharp, or that Noiz was weirdly intuitive.

“I was thinking.”

“Me too.”

“Oh yeah, what’re you thinking about, rich boy?” He didn’t respond to the half nickname, half jab directed his way, just finishing the next level and minimising the screen, face that had been hidden by holographic pixels suddenly in harsh colour and so knowing it made him want to recoil even as he refused.

“Why a Rhymer would be so friendly with a Ribster who’s the head of Dry Juice.”

His breath caught in his chest, but he swallowed it down messily along with another mouthful of pizza, and reached for the cigarettes, forcing his lips into a smirk he couldn’t feel in his dread filled chest. “Got me all worked out, don’t you? So, tell me what you know, nerd.”

“Security cameras show you going into the alley beside his home almost weekly for the past year, with the occasional gap,” he shrugged off Sly’s mildly unnerved expression, because as background checks went he hadn’t even dug that deep, Sly’s lifestyle was hardly a secret after all and it had only been this one thing he’d refused to tell the truth about. He’d come to a couple of conclusions himself and none of them were very savoury, but in Sly’s case it just made them more likely, intrigued now to discover what he was doing, sneaking about with somebody like Mizuki, whose background check had dug up little dirt. “Doing some kind of dealing, were you?”

“Not exactly.”

"What then?” No need to be subtle, he’d made his interest obvious, there was no way to play this off now, he’d asked once and been rebuffed and had been so intrigued he’d done his own research and ended up being forced to use his least favourite method of information gathering, actually speaking to people.

“You’re really that stupid?” Noiz just shrugged, as if not agreeing but saying they should pretend he was if only for the purpose of this conversation, Sly rolling his eyes in exasperation and noting his face flicker in surprise as he bluntly dumped the truth into the air between them. “I’m fucking him.”

Silence prevailed and Noiz’s expression morphed from surprised to almost incredulous but in a pleased, amused kind of way, as if he was proud and entertained at the same time, almost laughing in that strange way he did, clunky, as if he didn’t quite know how it worked.

“You’re fucking the head of Dry Juice?”

“That’s what I said. If you’re so interested I’m sure I can sneak a camera into his bedroom next time.” But that was what Noiz had been waiting for, the weird explanation he gave for his behaviour, so out of character and unnecessary when they both knew how unapologetic he normally was. Something else was happening there, and he really, really wanted to get to the bottom of it, but asking wouldn’t work now and his sleuthing had to end somewhere, eyes flitting absently to Sly’s coil and a devious thought slipping into his mind.

 

* * *

 

 “ _You_ want information from _me_?”

“That’s what I said.” He didn’t even blink, just standing there in his presumed living room and staring at him with such a deadpan look he felt his hackles rise uncomfortably, figuring that whatever he wanted to know couldn’t be anything too terrible, especially considering he hung around with Sly already and couldn’t be too morally reliable.

“Okay, so what do you want to know?”

“Sly, how do you know him?”

“Everybody knows him, he’s kinda infamous.” He just received a dead stare and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, aware his lie, or lack of lie, had been noticed the second he spoke and feeling increasingly analysed under that unblinking, cold stare. “He broke into my place drunk once, I made him breakfast. He pesters me on the street sometimes. Is that enough or do you want a play by play?”

He didn’t look impressed by his sarcasm, just idly flicking a finger and several screens emerging from the coil around his wrist, hovering in the air above them, moving one hand in little circles while flicking through pictures with the other, pausing suddenly on a view of Aoyagi Street. “Old man in a kimono?”

“I- well, not really old, but that’s him, when is this from?”

“Two weeks ago, three forty eight am. He normally go out with no shoes on?” Now he sounded lightly amused, more mocking than anything and not able to read the mood enough to know that Mizuki was in no state of mind to be entertained by Koujaku’s apparent sudden eccentricities. Zooming into his feet to show his weird socks, designed for wearing with sandals he hadn’t deigned to slip on, padding over the rough surface of the street as if he wasn’t even aware of his strange behaviour, standing in the street and doing nothing.

“I wouldn’t have thought so.”

“Every day that week, three thirty six, four twenty one, four fifty-nine,” he flickered through the images so fast they made Mizuki dizzy, locating him in the street several times, always dressed in the casual clothes he never left the house in, always bare-foot and always stood, unmoving, in that one same spot.

“Question,” his eyes left the screens for a moment, head not moving but green regarding him with a raised eyebrow as if he was wasting his precious time. “How exactly are you finding this so fast?”

“I’ve got him bugged,” his eyes must have bulged a significant amount because the boy almost laughed, snorting derisively in a way he was certain to have learned from Sly, looking genuinely amused as he rolled his eyes disbelievingly as Mizuki looked irritated, realising he’d fallen for the trick easily. But he was gracious, or smug, enough to change the screens, presumably slowing down the process of locating the team leader and hairdresser, some kind of software scanning every face in the frame as he let the security tape run, zooming in to anybody remotely resembling Koujaku and face illuminating green when it finally spotted him.

“Face recognition software. So, when’d he go missing?”

“Sometime yesterday I think, I’m not sure.”

He didn’t speak then, moving his hands around and somehow finding several different angles of the street and his shop front, Mizuki surprised there were than many security cameras in one area, let alone that all of them seemingly worked. The images were like a 360 degree view of the street, surrounding them in a circle and the bartender turning to watch the progress of two men across the screen and up the stairs leading to a balcony decorated with traditional Japanese carvings.

They stood there in silence as the team leader emerged from the apartment, two blonde haired men following behind him, walking so stiffly Mizuki felt every hair on his arms raise and the already cold apartment building seemed to plummet several degrees. Even Noiz was frowning now, the slightest downturn of his bottom lip as he zoomed into the blondes faces and his software identified them with the tiniest of information, Virus, Trip, both Yakuza, nothing else known about them.

“Looks like he got himself involved with the Yakuza. He’s as good as dead. Sorry.” But he didn’t sound very apologetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Designs, updates, ficart and other things of interest- [here](http://minky-way.tumblr.com/tagged/intravenous-series)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist @ [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/minky-way/03-infected)

“Holy shit, you _are_ fucking minted! And here, I’d been feeling guilty for having you buy me shit,” Noiz didn’t react to that other than to raise an eyebrow, walking across the room and cracking open his fridge without so much as marvelling at the ice-dispenser on the front. “Alright, so that’s bullshit. But seriously dude, you own this whole floor?”

He ignored him then, because it was obvious he owned the whole floor but Sly’s reaction made him feel all kinds of strange, wondering where he’d expected him to live, some kind of crack den by the sound of it. Maybe he’d spent too recklessly, but he didn’t see why he couldn’t have a few comforts for once, though he guessed that most fourteen year olds would see a double bed as a luxury rather than a sprawling apartment. “Your fuck buddy came to see me the other day.”

“Oh yeah? What he need you for?”

“Beni-Shigure and their leader went missing.”

“Again? Man, they have no luck lately,” he changed the topic immediately, darting around from shiny thing to shiny thing, stopping in front of the TV that seemed almost bigger than him and was certainly the biggest he’d ever seen, seeing his grubby reflection in it and turning away with a frown. “Hey, hey, how fucking big is this TV? Shit dude!”

The TV was 56 inches, but he had no desire to tell him such an unnecessary fact when he’d just dropped a massive piece of intel, in front of an information broker no less, tone insistent as he turned to regard him, “again?”

“Yeah, yeah, they all disappeared for a couple weeks end of last year, it’s old news and they came back just as self-righteous as ever so who gives a fuck?”

“Apparently not yo-“ he was almost irritated now at how little importance Sly was attaching to this news, because a whole group of people disappearing twice was hardly something you could just drop into conversation then rapidly abandon. But his door sounded then and he knew exactly who it was already, having deliberately scheduled their visits to overlap if only to get more time to study them together, or to see what information he could wheedle out of them while in the same room.

He gestured for Sly to get the door and he did as he was told for once, opening it and expression faltering as he took in the bartender who looked equally confused at seeing his fuck buddy stood there, looking dirty on plush white carpet. “Ew, why are you here?”

“I could ask you the same. But I’m here to see your friend.”

“I don’t have friends, asshole.”

“Both of you shut up,” Noiz was rolling his eyes, throwing a beer to Sly and watching with what looked like mild distaste as he yanked the top off with his teeth, resisting the urge to spit it onto the ground and tucking it into a ratty pocket instead. “I’ve got what you wanted.”

“Awesome, and… I’m guessing you still don’t want my money?”

“Doesn’t need it more like, dude lives in a fuckin palace!” Sly seemed amused at himself, wandering off into one of the rooms coming off the living area without a care in the world and Noiz not even watching him go, Mizuki noting with amusement his battered trainers left neatly by the front door.

“Come in, I’ve made a map for you. And you’re right, I don’t want your money, but I do have one request.”

“Sure.”

“You take me with you when you go,” Mizuki looked uncertain then and he continued speaking even as he flicked several screens onto the blank wall where there really should be windows, the bartenders face paling as he regarded the images there, knowing he was being blackmailed or something similar. “And you answer my questions.”

“Where’d you get these? Or is that a dumb question to ask an information broker?”

“I hacked Sly’s coil, interesting though, that the owner is listed as one Mizuki Namida. A gift, was it?” His eyes were narrowed and he knew he had him cornered, there was no way he could release this information to the public without it causing a wildfire of gossip and rumour, and though Mizuki knew that wasn’t his intention, he wouldn’t risk it either.

“I didn’t need it anymore. Call it charity.”

“Hm, so, these pictures, they sure weren’t taken in his warehouse, or at his Grandmas, care to divulge?” How he knew what both his warehouse and his Grandma’s looked like, he had no idea, all he could register was how dangerous this situation had rapidly become, and how unprepared he was for it.

He was being blackmailed by a fourteen year old, an actual kid had hacked into his old coil, Sly’s current coil, and had now decided it was an excellent idea to beam the other teenager’s nudes onto the walls of his living room, regarding them blankly as Mizuki scowled. “My bedroom, they’re in my bedroom.”

“And what was he doing in your bedroom?”

“Taking nudes, apparently.”

“You think you’re funny.”

“Not particularly,” he responded, aware things were heading south and rapidly so, unsure as to why Noiz was suddenly being so passive aggressive about this, like he had some stake in Sly and was fighting to see who was most deserving of him. It was fucking bizarre.

“So, you’re fucking.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s it? There’s no sweet little romance going on? No unrequited feelings?”

“No. But maybe you should ask Sly about that.”

“Hm, maybe I will.” They just stared at each other for a few moments, silently weighing each other up and Mizuki knowing that if it came to it, he could take this teenage brat in a fight easily, not noticing Sly had arrived in the room after his explorations until Noiz silently closed the images and the conversation was deemed over. “I’ve got the map you wanted, sit down.”

It wasn’t an offer, nor had the one been to enter the apartment in the first place, they were demands, he expected the orders to be obeyed and he wasn’t allowing any disagreement, waiting stoically until he obeyed the command and sat down stiffly, the opposite of Sly who had flung himself out across the couch and made himself at home.

“Alright, so I managed to trace the movements of Koujaku but the cameras only cover a small area of the island before they end so I had to improvise.”

“Improvise?” He was asking more for a definition of the word than an explanation of what he meant and Mizuki knew that but Noiz didn’t quite catch the confusion in his voice, just continuing on and Sly left to frown in annoyance at being left out.

“A drone, flew it over the island looking for sources of body heat in outlying buildings,” Mizuki didn’t even bat an eyelid now, because of course this stupidly rich kid would have some kind of military-grade sounding heat seeking drone, he didn’t know how he’d expected any less. “Found a few, homeless people, street kids, that kinda thing mainly. But one building, off in the north district, by the old junkyards, had too large a heat source to be one person, it’s more likely to be all of Beni-Shigure than anything else, though nobody has left the building so I can’t confirm it.”

“Wait, wait, so it took you two days, and all you can say is that it _might_ be them and that they’re in the forbidden part of the Island?”

He bristled then, actively bristled, and Sly’s smirk widened, almost looking forward to their seemingly brewing argument, sat between them and silently goading them on as Noiz’s expression grew less impressed. “This is the Yakuza we’re dealing with, you saw how little intel there is on Virus and Trip, consider yourself lucky I found anything at all. And besides, you already gave me payment.”

“Ooh, ooh, what did he want?” He was like an excitable child for a moment and it was almost cute, but then his eyes grew wide with nasty glee and his mouth fell open, “Oh, Dry Juice _tell me_ you didn’t fuck the kid!”

“Of course I didn’t fuck the damn kid! All he wanted was-“

“Information.”

Sly just blinked then, looking baffled before rolling his eyes as if to say that he’d expected no more from the foreigner, Mizuki pausing to take a deep breath at how ridiculous this whole thing was, forcing his tone into politer territory. “Alright, can you send me the map then? It’s at least worth checking out.”

“Sure. I already know your number, let me know when you’re going,” Mizuki nodded in agreement, coil buzzing with a new file from a blocked, unlisted number and the conversation seeming to have been killed even before his last order. “You can see yourself out.”

 

* * *

 

‘We’re meeting today at eleven.’

‘K.’

It wasn’t exactly the response he’d expected, rolling his eyes as he pocketed the coil and figuring that with Noiz’s alarming knowledge of everything, he probably already knew when and where they were meeting, though that he, a fourteen year old, was awake at nine am did come as a surprise.

He didn’t have much time to brood on the shitty response though, because in ten minutes people would begin arriving for operation ‘save Beni-Shigure’, not that anybody had called it that of course, but it was the basic gist of the operation and a good a title as any other he might invent. He hadn’t been thinking much that morning, he had no idea what was going to happen anyway and there was little to think of when everything was so unknown, he’d just stood under his shower spray for too long like always and naively, childishly, hoped everything would turn out alright.

He ate breakfast as if nothing was wrong, wolfing down some toast and finding a yoghurt about to go past it’s date, hidden at the past of the fridge, practically pouring it into his mouth when he heard the bar door unlocking and knew Tio had arrived and probably brought others with him. He forgot to brush his teeth and as he reached the bar and ran a tongue over their fuzzy surface, he knew there was no way he could go back and undo his mistake, hoping today wouldn’t end with the same feeling.

 

Kou was there again, nervously running a hand over and over Jin’s dog, other perched on the floor beside him and talking as if nothing was wrong, actually drawing a couple of queasy smiles and Mizuki relieved somebody was managing to make things seem okay even for just a moment. The canine seemed to be soothing him most though, her head lying in his lap and large, baleful brown eyes blinking up at him, sensing his mood and copying it unconsciously, nuzzling into his stomach when he stopped stroking and his expression tightened, distracting him enough to finger velvety soft ears and forget about today for another second.

Kin and Tio were talking with Kouhaku in one corner, the other checking his coil and looking up to the door just as Yuu walked in, greeting them with his usual sunny smile, not bothered by anything that happened around him and a beacon of positivity always. People like that normally annoyed Mizuki, they weren’t realists, they refused to show a single bit of despair or hopelessness and he didn’t like people who wouldn’t admit the pain life could cause. But something about Yuu was endearing and everybody who interacted with him always left feeling a little better, no matter what ill luck might have befallen them. They’d certainly need him today.

Others followed in, punctual as always, some straggling after, the usual late comers, smiling apologetically as Mizuki checked his watch and cleared his throat of nothing at all, conversations dropping off fast because this wasn’t just a social meeting.

 

His speech started off strong, but dropped into useless, vague comments remarkably fast because he had no idea what they were even doing that day other than hopefully finding Beni-Shigure. “Alright guys, gather round. So, we’re gunna go in there, and… Find what we find. And then… We’ll deal with it.” His words dropped off a little abruptly and he was met with more than one raised eyebrow, lack of trust and some half-hearted amusement spreading through the group, Tio suddenly at his shoulder and obviously hiding a laugh at how crap his motivating pep talk had been.

“Not your most inspiring speech.”

He wasn’t being mean and he’d lowered his voice so nobody else could hear, he clearly had nothing to say either and Mizuki decided it was best to admit that and show weakness than to try and seem in control and fail completely, “we’ll deal with whatever we find, that’s all I can say because I don’t know any more. There’s a chance they might not be there anymore, or that they weren’t there at all, I don’t know. But this is our best chance at finding them.”

“They’re there,” a voice louder, more confident than any of the rest of them could be and all eyes turned to the door that had been opened and closed silently, some frowning at the stranger in their midst who dressed so strangely and seemed so young, some narrowing eyes in suspicion. But then he did that weirdly casual flick of his fingers and an image appeared on the emptiest wall the bar possessed, projected poorly over tattoo sketches and messily arranged art prints, making the image seem a little raised off the wall and lines that should be straight bending instead.

But it was there, clear for all to see, a view from above of the large building they were planning on infiltrating today, frowning as it was hardly proof of Beni-Shigures’ presence there, zooming in so fast and smoothly it made Mizuki feel a little sick, refocusing to see the small, red form of a bird lying on the ground. There was an outcrop of rock, seemingly cut for building purposes then dumped to grow moss in the middle of the wastelands, and under it, barely visible in the original image Noiz had projected, Beni, the allmate of Koujaku, lay still and immobile. A single, tiny speck of red was in the zoomed out image and how Noiz had spotted it nobody had any idea, straining only to reach the conclusion that they’d view it as a flower and nothing more, and would move on.

“That’s his Allmate, he doesn’t seem the type to just let it go wherever it wants.”

“No, he loves Beni. He’d never lose him, he’d go crazy with worry,” Kou was shaking his head, fingers trembling on brown fur and no amount of whining and nosing at his palm would stop the tremor of his voice as he stared at the images.

“This is Noiz, our informant. He’s coming with us today.”

He nodded stiffly as he was introduced, turning back to the wall just as quickly, seeming both comfortable and out of his depth in front of the team, ignoring them to speak authoritatively and plainly, more images projected onto the wall in small patches. Mizuki was more than happy to let him take over, he had the information after all, “there are security cameras all over the exterior, they’re well-hidden but they’re there, there’s no direction you could approach from where they wouldn’t know you were coming. Basically, there’s no secrecy in this, the second you get within a hundred metres they’ll know you’re there. As for guards, Allmate or human, I haven’t seen anybody enter or leave since I started surveillance, your guess is as good as mine.”

“What about if we went at night? The cameras wouldn’t pick us up, right?”

“Night vision,” he cut off his thought without an ounce of tenderness, words clipped and cool, tugging at the piercings on one of his hands as he removed the images and the group blinked back into reality, staring at this child who knew so much and seemed so foreign. “They will have noticed my drone too. They’re expecting you.”

“What do we do?” It was rare to see Tio actually nervous, but now he looked a little pale and he couldn’t have his right hand man look so uncertain about this whole thing, if he needed anybody on his side it was him, and he opened his mouth to speak when a voice interrupted him sharply.

“We go get them, what else is there to do?” Hysteria had crept into Kou’s voice and the comforting animal on his lap grew nervous, hackles rising and whining gently as she stood up suddenly, cowering back against Jin’s legs. “We have to get them!”

He’d approached Mizuki almost desperately, aggressively, as if he wanted to smack sense into him, bartender reaching out for his shoulder before he could get more agitated, directing his initial words to him in a firm, authoritative tone. “Nobody’s saying we’re not going to. Okay? We planned to go today, we’re going today. This information changes nothing. We just need to be ready for a fight. So, are you with me?”

Shuffling feet, a dry cough, exchanged glances and understanding spreading as people took deep breaths and said silent prayers that this would end well for all of them, beginning to nod slowly and shoulders being thrown back, arms tensing, fingers coiling into fists and relaxing again. “Are you with me?”

This time nobody paused, and the sound of their combined agreement roared out into the streets beyond, streets they’d soon be walking down, but who knew in what state?

 

* * *

 

It was a decent trek there, through the streets at first, people parting to let them through as always, news having somehow gotten out about both Beni-Shigure and their attempted rescue, people calling good luck and wishing them well with their endeavour, offering blessings and good tidings. It buoyed their spirits until the town ended, even the seedier areas dying out behind them and ending up in the junkyards of the island where nobody would either want or need to be, heading past abandoned, half collapsed buildings, just empty husks and the wind whistling through them ominously.

There was plenty of undergrowth where nature had reclaimed the area, trees sprouting out of what had been a living room, complete with the skeleton of a couch and a pile of mangled plastic that could once have been a television set. Past stacks of tyres and finally into the true junkyard where things had once been organised and stacked by whoever for whatever reason, trash divided up neatly then left to rot. Tyres looming around them on all sides in high piles or messy stacks that towered double the height of even the tallest among them, rusty shells of cars and other electrical devices haunting where they creaked and lay, rusted orange and sickly brown in the wreckage.

There were occasional buildings, small hut like things and the rare concrete structure that just remained standing, but it wasn’t until they were unnervingly close to the mountains that ran around half the island that the ground started clearing, becoming concrete underfoot. The junkyards almost fell away then, stepping out into a large, relatively clear area of concrete with the tall building they all recognised leering out at them.

Noiz had been leading the way and he stopped them then, holding out an arm that didn’t come near to touching anyone, all staying well back, wary of this teenager who was so cold and spoke with so much authority that even Mizuki silenced when his mouth opened.

“Turn off Allmates, they’ll give off signals. I can hack the cameras and block all real-time images of you, but it’ll take me a minute to set up.” He didn’t look out of place at all in amongst all the no trespassing signs, just continuing to speak easily, “the cameras will be able to see us if we go further. You might want to make a plan.” With that he fell silent, lowering himself to sit, cross-legged on a single tyre, opening his coil and weirdly out of place, almost chirpy electronic music playing as he began playing a game like this was just a jolly outing or a peaceful Sunday afternoon walk.

They all stopped then, genuinely taken aback because not only had their guide immediately dumped responsibility back onto them, but he was so incredibly blasé about the whole thing that it was nothing more than horribly unnerving. His shoulders belied none of the nervous tension that ran thick through the group, no distractions here now as they stood there like lost sheep, searching for a leader when not even theirs knew what to do or say.

It was Maoi who spoke first, having been quiet thus far but sensing nobody else would do anything, nervous to speak over the others but growing with confidence as he realised he spoke the words all the others feared to say. “Well now what do we do? Surely we don’t just go in.”

“What else are we meant to do? There’s no point us being here if we just linger outside.” Michi now, frowning even as his cheeks turned pink as all eyes turned to him, words having been blurted out as if he hadn’t intended to do any more but think them, if that, glad when Hitomi replied.

“Well how do we get in? I doubt we can just walk in the front door.”

“You can, there’s no locks or security. Last week it was so windy the door blew open, stayed that way all night and was closed the next morning by somebody inside. That’s happened a couple times,” it seemed every time there was a gap to be filled in, Noiz chose to speak, waiting infuriatingly to give them the information they needed, as if telling them all at once would make his presence useless. “Signals are blocked, all good on my side.”

“So. We gather ourselves, and just go in there. I- I know it’s not our style, but this isn’t our normal thing, so, if anybody has a weapon, or can find one. That’s… That’s probably a good idea,” the sound of flick knives opening was almost unnerving in it’s suddenness, at least two thirds of the group removing knives from concealed pockets, some opening blades clumsily as if unused to it, others holding them with such focus Mizuki didn’t doubt they’d practiced with them. Others broke off in small groups of two or three, searching slightly further away, amongst the junk they’d walked through but always remaining in sight, finding twisted pipes of metal or loading their pockets with lengths of rope and rusted wire.

It made things seem surreal and Mizuki hadn’t expected that, he’d anticipated that when they arrived things would suddenly smash into him and he’d be enveloped in terror, but seeing his team, his _friends_ , holding weapons seemed so unrealistic it could have been a dream.

“Alright. So, if anybody doesn’t want to go in, now is the time to leave,” the wind picked up then and his hair blew into his eyes, hiding the confused expressions of the team, eyebrows furrowing and frowns appearing, insulted at the implication they’d come all this way only to back out now. If they could say anything about their team, it would be that they didn’t go back on promises, and Mizuki was glad for that now, silently gesturing for them to follow him and stepping out of the safety into full view of the cameras.

 

* * *

 

 

Noiz was right, and he didn’t know why he was surprised, because he’d always been right so far and he wouldn’t be so arrogant if he didn’t know his information was good, door opening silently and light streaming into a dim corridor beyond. The men behind him knew to stay silent, after all the whole situation was something more than unnerving, it thickened the air they breathed with dread and even with Noiz outside, connected to Mizuki and Tio by earpieces, they didn’t feel too reassured.

Hand gestures too they suddenly followed with military precision, understanding Mizuki's unspoken commands to break into two groups, one staying put by the door they’d closed behind them, the others swarming around him and Tio, familiar faces hardened with the task they had set out to achieve. Hideaki, who had a baby back at home, Jin, who had four dogs and loved them more than anything, Yuu, who iced intricate pastries in his mother’s bakery. All holding weapons and with expressions so stern nobody would guess the sweet, kind people they were every day, intimidating and oppressive in their stealth, footsteps hurried but quiet as they headed to where the hallway bent.

Another signal then, Kiko being the one to send it and bringing up the rear, towering over even Kin at six foot seven, a pillar of muscle and power who had a bad temper but kept the most beautiful garden at the family house where he still lived. The others met up with them quickly and this time they were the ones to go ahead, finding two doors and Mizuki’s nod clear enough, they were to divide up again, into groups of equal strength and ability, arranging themselves easily and Kiko leaving them now, Kin taking his place with a hard pat on the back, the ultimate gesture of trust.

 

What was beyond the right door, Mizuki would never know, but the left was where they went, one person opening it and the others ready to pounce were something to jump out, blinking in pain as harsh light flickered into their widened pupils. It seemed empty at first, but as they all snuck inside and closed the door, forms of what looked like trash bags became clear, the ceiling high here and clearly the main room of the complex, floor hard concrete and walls the same.

“Mizuki, it’s-“ Masao’s voice cut off at the same time everybody else realised, Riku actually gasping even as Tio stepped forwards and was grabbed by two different hands, letting them pull him back into the pack without complaint, mouth hanging open and lungs burning with his harshly pulled in breath.

There was a hand digging into his shoulder and when he looked up at the figure looming above him he could see his own confusion, his own unnerved fear reflected in matching blue eyes, freckled face tense and deep grooves in his forehead where he did something more than just frown.

“Koujaku isn’t there.”

“What’s wrong with them all?”

“The door isn’t locked, why didn’t they just leave?”

Nobody could answer the questions and nobody cared to either, staring across the empty space and sudden commotion from the opposite side of the room drawing nervous, flickering glances from Dry Juice, the rest of them piling into the room and stopping dead in their tracks. Silence fell for a good few minutes while they all just stood there in abject shock, murmuring uncertainly and the thick atmosphere in the room getting oppressive, pressing down on them sickly.

“Hagima!” It took more than a couple of them to hold Kou back when he spotted his friend, trying to fight them off and movements growing less frantic as the team began to turn as one, too slowly to be normal and eyes staring at them without seeing. The whole of Beni-Shigure were there, heads hidden under black hoods that fell down low, almost over their eyes but not enough to hide the blank, emotionless expressions their faces held, barely even blinking as they eventually faced the other team. He too, was the one to react most strongly, backing away and shaking his head, fear choking him and voice trembling wildly when he spoke again, “w-whats wrong with them? Why are they acting like that?”

“We don’t know, just stay back, okay? Wait and see what they do.”

It was terrifying, unnatural, the look in their eyes, the coordinated way they approached as one body, as if they could all communicate entirely silently, heads covered in the same black hoodie and hands empty of weapons but everything in their gait promising danger.

“What’s wrong with them?” He’d been asking Kin, who stood close by his side, but it was Noiz who answered through the earpiece, though he had to admit he doubted any of his fellow team members would have a decent answer.

“They’ve been brainwashed. It’s obvious.”

“You’re serious?”

This voice was too loud and close to be anything but an actually spoken remark, a figure neatly slotting himself in between Tio and Mizuki, and answering completely calmly, “deadly. There’s a kind of light, and music too, that act as hallucinogens, make you trip the fuck out. Yakuza have been trialling them on people in different places, clubs and shit. Like mind control.”

Tio frowned then, turning to regard the mere kid who was suddenly stood at his side, eyes scanning him and trying to work out why he was even there, let alone how he knew all this, just nodding slowly and figuring he was probably right, he’d led them to Beni-Shigure after all, he deserved some trust.

“Thought you were waiting outside?” Noiz didn’t respond, just regarded him blankly and shrugged, fingering the bandages over his hands absently and ignoring the couple of older fashioned team members who glared at him, annoyed he’d disrespect their leader so blatantly.

Even if he’d been planning on replying there was suddenly no time to, it was as if they’d waited for them all to be in one place to run at them at full speed, the noises of alarmed surprise or sudden aggression would have been funny if they all hadn’t been incredibly aware that this might be a hard fight. Any lingering indecision about fighting people they recognised gone as the crowds smashed into each other hard and the insanity really began, no time to wait and hope this could be fixed with words.

 

They were split up fast, grabbed and dragged into the middle of the suddenly loose group of unrecognisable Beni-Shigure members, Tio lost both Mizuki and Kin, aware of somebody close by his side who had been similarly dragged into things. But he couldn’t exactly wait where he was or take a moment to gather his bearings because somebody had swung at his midsection with a fist he’d swear had supernatural levels of strength. So he ducked and tried not to hit back because he knew these people and he didn’t understand why they’d be attacking them with no real reason, their eyes reminding him of those of the dead fish at the grocery store on his block.

Dry Juice was the bigger team, the stronger team, the one who actually had turf battles more, so the fact they were gaining the upper hand already wasn’t entirely a surprise, but it was alarming that when the Beni-Shigure guys went down, they stayed there.

But in the second he’d taken to realise this, staring in alarm at first as the guy he’d only hit once sprawled onto the floor and didn’t get up, feeling alarm flood him even in this situation that didn’t call for it, somebody else was on him. He registered the glint of steel and the hairs standing up on his neck rose as one, no time to duck away properly, seeing almost in slow motion the slash of the blade through the air, body behind him trapping him in place and waiting for the sharp pain.

But somebody had jumped in between then, a trainer whizzed past his face at a height a leg shouldn’t be at, connecting with the guy at the same time as another hooded figure tried to prevent the movement, colliding with a crash and the crack of bone hitting hard floor.

There wasn’t time to even think, he saw the blur of freckles as the figure fell and any slight fear, panic, whatever he might have felt was wiped from his mind as somebody grabbed him from behind and he had to turn to smash them in the face and knock them to the ground where they were all but trampled.

He’d never really been violent, and it had taken a lot of coercing from Mizuki to get him to even consider joining a Rib team, so in situations like this, in fights, he was never one to use more force than necessary, but it was even harder now when he recognised the people he was hurting. He knew the face of the man he’d just delivered a harsh blow to, could name the children of another who was striking out at Sora while he jumped out of the way, ducking skilfully until he mistimed something and a foot struck him hard in the chest.

There were flashes of metal, and whether they were Dry Juice’s weapons or ones acquired by Beni-Shigure, he didn’t know, but he could hear noises of pain and scuffles from everywhere, losing track of everybody, too occupied with himself to take care of anyone else.

But they were losing their advantage and they knew it, the guys in black were getting up off the floor but the others weren’t, none looking like they were about to die but certainly not in any fit state either. They were sloppy, reluctant to fight in this situation and it was obvious as the recognisable face of Hagima appeared in his vision, elbow smashing into his chin and only narrowly avoiding his second attack, raising a forearm to block it.

Bringing weapons had been an awful idea, the only thing it had done was arm the enemy, loathe as he was to see them that way and he knew they had to retreat, “Mizuki!” The chances of him hearing above the noise was unlikely but he had to try, they needed the instruction of their leader now and if Tio was in charge they would have surrendered almost immediately after this began.

But either he hadn’t heard and it was a strange coincidence, or he’d heard and thought it was a request for help because suddenly he was there and Tio was left again to be horribly impressed by how damned good a fighter he was. People said Koujaku had never lost a fight, but he damn sure didn’t put as much effort it into as Mizuki did, punching one guy square in the face before spinning and taking another out with a kick, two down in seconds and a third following soon after.

“We need to get out of here! This- it’s a decoy!” How he’d suddenly realised that he had no idea but there was no way this wasn’t a distraction from the very Yakuza who had taken them, voicing the thought the moment it occurred and Mizuki nodding as he ducked to avoid a blow, Tio striking out over his body to take him down.

They were rising up again, like zombies from the ground as Mizuki finally gave the call to retreat, voice cutting through the noise of impact and scuffles and the occasional grunt or yell of pain as a blow hit, only the Dry Juice guys making any noise. He yelled over and over for them to draw back, to head out of what Tio realised in strange detachment had once been a factory, one wall filled with loading bays numbered from one to six and the ceiling interspersed with old machinery.

 

The passageway they took this time was different to the two before, a double doored space that led into a narrow, weakly lit corridor, three guys there waiting for them who were taken out easily by those at the front. Mizuki ushered Tio to go, seemingly insistent on fighting off the rest himself so they could make their escape, ducking and hitting out without stopping to breathe, checking everybody had limped or run out before he followed them as they took flight down the corridor.

What might be the oddest thing though, was that they were not pursued, after the initial three had fallen, no more came and they were able to slow their pace a bit, Mizuki getting to the front and pausing in the group to check for injuries. Reaching a door to the outside, chinks around the metal frame letting in beams of daylight and Mizuki yanking it open without a single thought for what might be there, eyes burning as they stepped out into the cool air.

 

* * *

 

It was a kind of car park, a very rudimentary one anyway, surrounded by chain-link fence and with a large gate pushed open to have allowed the two cars in, one was a people carrier, black with the windows blacked out too. The other looked like it had been there a little too long to work, Tio’s eyes lingering on it long enough to make out the plants beginning to grow and curl around it and the flatness of both rear tyres, hearing the group gasp and a door slamming.

There were more of the black hooded men surrounding the old car, but it was the two people who’d seemingly emerged from the van that they were staring at, Tio’s gasp coming later than everybody else’s and freezing in place, somebody called out then, probably Mizuki, a single name that had been haunting them all for days.

“Koujaku!” It had been unconscious, he was sure of that, just joining the mass of the team and nobody so much as glancing his way, focused on the gleam of silver against a pale neck, at the small trickle of blood trailing down to stain a t-shirt with a dumb slogan on it. Odd though, that he’d yelled the name of the captor, not his victim, second hand man just standing completely still, eyes wide with horror and betrayal as the leader of his team held a knife to his throat.

There was movement again then, the bodyguards moving forwards as if to lunge for the one who had spoken, team closing ranks around Mizuki protectively, anticipating more fighting and each of them trying to work out who the person was holding Kou in place, because surely it couldn’t be Koujaku.

“Wait,” but he spoke then, coming closer and dragging Kou with him, knife digging into his skin deeper and forcing him to push into his body just to avoid it, swallowing thickly as his mouth filled with saliva and he couldn’t help it, wincing at the sharp sting. He stopped a short distance in front of them all, Mizuki’s eyes narrowing as he pulled down his hood with one hand and everything stopped but at the same time nothing did, “I almost didn’t think you’d come all the way here. Just like you to make me wait, Mizuki.”

“Koujaku, what are you doing?” His voice shook but his expression was so stony those around him wondered if this was something they were uninvolved in now, the world around them seeming to dissolve until it was only them left, the leaders smile too superficial to be anything but unnerving. “Let Kou go.”

This wasn’t the face of the Koujaku he knew and he said everything with that same false smile, not answering his demand and just inclining his head as he continued to speak, hair loose and flowing around his face, ends tipped with red and wilder than he’d ever seen it. “What happened, Koujaku? We were worried when Beni-Shigure disappeared again.”

“Hm? Never mind that now, just listen, Mizuki. It’s amazing. We were reborn as members of Morphine. It’s like being a God, the most powerful Rib team on the island. No, more than just some Rib team, we’re legendary.”

“We?”

“Of course. The others came willingly when they found out we could become so powerful. Now no other team could pass us!” He started laughing then and it sent chills through him, it was harsh and ugly, and nothing like a laugh that would ever come from Koujaku’s mouth, not the chuckle when he flirted with his customers and not the genuine bark when with friends. It was hysterical and manic and he could almost see the cogs of his mind steaming and grinding as he spoke, eyes bearing that same distant look as the others of his team, smile so wide and disturbing, his bodyguards not moving and just staring with doll-like eyes.

“This is fucking insane, Koujaku! The fuck are you doing, man? Open your eyes! This isn’t you, this isn’t Beni-Shigure!” Desperation had crept in now and somebody behind him crumpled to the ground but he barely spared the fallen member a glance, hearing quiet words and knowing his team were sane enough to look after each other still.

“You’re the insane one. You could have had all this power, more than you have now! More than anybody on this island!” Still that smile, like he was talking about the weather, “Rib is so much more than some petty street fights. It’s not too late, Dry Juice, you can join us, the reborn Beni-Shigure, I’ll even give you a high ranked position.”

“I’m not interested in power, or in joining you.”

If anybody had been stood close enough they would have seen him shaking, hands balled into fists and trembling at his sides, with rage or concern even he wasn’t sure. Wondering where this had come from, because to his knowledge Koujaku had never taken Rib that seriously, nowhere near as much as Mizuki had anyway, for him it was more a casual hobby than a lifestyle, so to find he’d been craving power this whole time baffled him. None of the words he was saying were things he’d ever say, they were foreign and wrong leaving his mouth, something about his eyes was wilder than normal, crimson eyes dyed darker and too wide, smile eerie.

“Oh, really. I see. Whatever. I have a good idea, anyway.” Mizuki’s eyebrows were furrowed as he spoke almost to himself, sure he’d never heard Koujaku use the word ‘whatever’ before, let alone speak so vaguely, almost as if he was drugged up, remembering Noiz’s words. “You guys really care about Kou here, huh?”

The arm around his neck tightened and he let out a choked breath as cold metal formed a new cut, just above the first, Mizuki could feel sweat drip down his back, “Koujaku, stop it.”

“If you join Morphine.” Kou had closed his eyes now and his face was stiff, his fate in Mizuki’s hands even if directly it would be his own friend who’d deal the death slice, trying not to even breathe in case the knife cut deeper. Silence falling for a terse second and only the sound of a crow and the wind rustling in the surrounding trees breaking it, Mizuki turning to meet Tio’s eyes, showing nothing helpful and just opening his mouth wordlessly, not knowing what to do either.

“Let go of him.”

“You don’t get it, do you? Become part of our team.”

“I said no.”

“Huh? I’m not bluffing, Mizuki. Don’t regret it afterwards, you’re the one who chose not to join me,” Mizuki started forwards then as the knife dug in deeper and Kou actually made a sharp noise of pain, eyes squeezed tight shut and expression almost accepting, as if anticipating that he was going to die here.

“Koujaku! Stop! For fuck’s sakes!” His legs were moving without him asking them to, and if he’d thought it through he’d realise how stupid it was, how much he was endangering Kou’s life, but Koujaku didn’t react fast enough and he’d grabbed him by his shirt already. He could hear a scuffle behind him and knew Kou’s neck had been cut more as he’d torn the hairdresser away from him, was aware of several voices, questions of concern, requests for something to use as a bandage, reassurances and apologies.

But Mizuki’s eyes had locked with Koujaku’s and something weird had happened, starting in his gut as a sort of achy swooping, then everything went black and he could see vivid yellow swarming his vision as it was obscured with a more familiar image. He could hear scissors snipping neatly and repetitively, there was the low bustle of a street, but far away, as if heard through a window, low hum of pleasant conversation and the feeling of comfort that faded soon.

There was fire suddenly, and burning pain all over his back and stabbing needle-pricks against his face, screaming everywhere and then crimson splashed over everything and he was covered in sticky tar he couldn’t escape, sinking into it and black tendrils of hair suffocating him.

He was talking, Koujaku, with tears in his eyes and looking so miserable, saying things he’d never known, never thought to ask, about how disappointing his Rib team was to him, about how much he looked up to Dry Juice. Saying all he wanted was to be popular like them, to be so well regarded, to be more than just some flirtatious hairdresser, he wanted to be admired, to have his team stand above all others and to finally be proud of something.

Mizuki opened his mouth to speak but he couldn’t, teeth wound shut and just forced to listen to Koujaku instead, saying how Morphine had come to him, promised to make him stronger than anyone, to make his team the best, the favourite on the island, said he’d said no at first then realised maybe it was okay. But they hadn’t been what he’d expected, they’d tricked him and changed things and taken control of everybody, bent Beni-Shigure out of shape and not put them back together, they’d done whatever they wanted with them.

But then his expression changed even as Mizuki tried to move forwards and his legs finally let him, gripping onto his stomach in intense pain and pitching onto his knees on the floor of his hairdressing studio, hair clippings surrounding him. Reaching him just in time for his mouth to open and everything to fall out from under him with another sickening jerk.

 

He didn’t know who’d screamed, whether it was him or Koujaku, he didn’t even know what had happened as he suddenly snapped back into reality, crimson eyes he’d been staring into intently rolling back into his head as he released him in terror and stepped back.

Things smashing back into him along with another scream and this time he knew the sound hadn’t come from him, it was torn from lungs already damaged and destroyed, ripping the sky in two and every face there freezing with mouths open and eyes wide.

Not even a scream, a howl.

Long-haired head raising to the sky as if he was tearing apart, fingers ripping at his hair and mouth opened in a hoarse scream. He’d say he was crying but that wasn’t true, his eyes were watering madly, mouth overflowing with saliva and trickling down his chin, nose running and all combining as he roared at the sky, voice cracking and breaking into cry after cry.

“Koujaku! Hey, Koujaku!” He reached for his shoulder, to try and snap him out of it, but his eyes had rolled back into his head and they were so dilated they were nothing but crimson now, Mizuki stepping back despite his best intentions and not able to do anything but stare, stomach feeling like lead and shaking like a leaf.

Somebody was grabbing onto his sleeve but he pushed them off, head distorting and able to hear somebody yelling in his voice, telling them to get out, to run while they could, roaring at them until they obeyed and the sky rushed down to meet him.

 

* * *

 

“You’re finally awake then.”

“Kou- I- What?”

“It’s been chaos since you got out here.” He blinked then, suddenly remembering what had happened, the knife against his throat, staring at the strip of shirt wound around his skin, soaked crimson, aware then he was resting almost in his lap, sitting up dizzily.

“Where’s Koujaku?”

“Over there,” Mizuki followed his hand shakily, seeing the form of the hairdresser lying face down on the ground, members of Dry Juice surrounding him, picking up his limp form and somebody lying down a makeshift stretcher, a piece of corrugated iron. “We’re going to the hospital with him, you can deal with your own team.”

He left him then and he wasn’t sure if the tone in his voice was disappointment, concern or anger, just staying on the ground a little longer as people began to disperse, the remains of the black hooded guys coming out of the building and following along behind the stretcher silently, still not fully conscious but not as ominous either, looking a little lost.

He tried to stand, to go look out for his own team as he’d been told, but his legs buckled and he figured lying down for a couple of minutes would be okay, somebody would probably come looking for him anyway and every time he closed his eyes all he could hear was Koujaku screaming so he definitely wasn’t going to pass out. He just stared up at the sky and blinked slowly, feeling strength returning to him and not even trying to think about what had happened, memory of it fading away until he couldn’t remember much at all before Koujaku had begun screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Designs, updates, ficart and other things of interest- [here](http://minky-way.tumblr.com/tagged/intravenous-series)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist @ [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/minky-way/03-infected)

It was definitely selfish to have grabbed his arm the way he did when he was clearly occupied with other things, but the second the panicky words left his mouth and he was received with an understanding expression he knew it hadn’t been a mistake. “Where’s Mizuki? Is he okay? Is he safe? I don’t know what happened after he told us to run.”

“He’s good, he’s recovering round the back. Go look after the others.”

“Right,” he nodded then, Kou squeezing his shoulder and eyes a little wet even if neither of them mentioned it, following after the stretcher his leader lay on and trotting to keep up with those carefully carrying it over the barren ground. He just hoped they’d reach the hospital in time to fix whatever was wrong with him, mouth foaming and eyes rolled back into his head so horrifyingly Tio had a little been afraid of him, hair red at the tips and clothes almost torn off his bulging skin.

“He okay?”

He didn’t recognise the voice, it was rather hoarse and weak but he turned anyway, expecting it to be another team member enquiring after either leader and not minding being the one to fill people in, with Kou, Koujaku and Mizuki gone, he was the most authoritative person left. But he turned to meet a broad neck, knowing who it was purely based on his height and stepping back to take him in for all of three seconds before relief had flooded him and he’d hugged him, ignoring the blood on his face for now and the pale pallor of his skin.

“Kin! Oh fuck, I was worried about you! I saw you go down then you disappeared somewhere and nobody could tell me where you were! You fucking asshole!” He would have hit him for scaring him so much if he hadn’t clearly been injured somehow, just accepting the hand that patted his shoulder rather weakly, surprised at his lack of enthusiasm til he spoke.

“Glad you were so worried. But um, I’m pretty sure I have broken ribs, so…” he got the unspoken hint immediately, letting go and seeing the pained expression on his face lessen somewhat, thinking that being squeezed so tightly must have been worthy of more than a softly worded complaint.

“Oh shit, fuck, sorry! Look, sit down here, you’re bleeding,” he helped him ease down onto a small stack of old tyres, losing much of his intimidating height and allowing Tio to fuss over him with a small smile that only made his deeply split lip bleed more.

He didn’t speak for a moment, just letting Tio dab at his lip with a questionably clean tissue, frown making a crease appear between his brows and staring at it a little intensely if only to avoid meeting his eye and making him uncomfortable. But when he spoke his voice came out so warm he needn’t have hidden how pleased he was to monopolise his attention like this, trying to sound casual and wondering if he’d get the response he wanted, “you know, other people are hurt worse.”

“Yeah, and they’re being taken care of, let me look after you for once.”

He couldn’t help but smile then, feeling wonky on his face and stupidly wide, wincing as Tio whacked his head, lip reopening and blood so much colder than the fingers on his face, sliding down his chin to drip onto his shirt.

 

* * *

 

 

They’d straggled back to headquarters without being told to, Tio glancing over every new arrival to check for injuries that had been neglected and to make sure everybody was accounted for, waiting ten minutes for any who might have had to slowly limp there before he sighed in relief and began to speak, voice weak with tiredness.

“Okay, I’m pretty sure everybody who can be here is. So… That’s good. Oh, um, Mizuki’s fine, he’s just… You know, um, shaken? I guess. But nobody has any life threatening injuries so we’ve come out of this alright, pretty much, anyway. Koujaku,” his words failed him, because they’d all seen him have a meltdown, go entirely insane and foam at the mouth, pass out and scream like he was being torn apart and his stomach rolled queasily as he remembered. “He’s, well we don’t know what’s wrong with him, but he’s at the hospital so hopefully they’ll figure out what’s going on and he’ll be okay. The rest of his team are there too, the doctors said they think it’s some drug thing, like they were all tricked into taking something that made them act the way they were. They’ll stay til they’re better, but otherwise they’ve all just got minor injuries too.”

A few people nodded, looking relieved, holding makeshift bandages to noses and fists with torn open knuckles, a couple leaning on each other and one with a swollen ankle propped up on another chair, eyes tired with more than just physical exertion. “So I mean, I think that’s all I can say, really. Unless anybody wants to say something?”

Tetsuya spoke up then, an incredibly rare occurrence for the shyest member of their team, losing confidence as he continued and tone a little self-derogatory as he let his words tail off, looking pale with a long graze down one cheek. “Yeah, um, I was talking to a couple guys, and um, we kinda feel nervous, about like going home or whatever. Kinda doesn’t feel safe now. I know that’s dumb.”

Sympathy flooded him immediately and he made a soft noise in his throat because of course nobody felt safe now, a strong team, the second strongest on the island, had been kidnapped and brainwashed or drugged into submission without so much as the sign of a fight. It was the biggest threat they could ever face and Tio suddenly realised with his words that he didn’t want to go home alone either, “okay, yeah, it-it’s not dumb, that makes sense. I mean, we should stay on alert a while, until the Yazuka that did it get caught. Um, how many of you feel like that?” A few hands raised, some looking embarrassed and some actively nervous, hands almost shooting into the air as if trying to elaborate just how unnerved this whole experience had left them feeling.

“Alright, well if people want to apartment share or whatever, that seems like the best idea, if people have room. A couple people can crash at mine if they want. I- I have to admit, this shit is enough to make anybody not wanna be alone.” He finished then and the group smiled in understanding, even those who hadn’t seemed too worried about going back to their own places nodding as if they got why others would, working together quickly to offer beds for the night and some of them almost a little excited about the prospect since they were all rather too old for sleepovers. “So, that’s it I suppose. Great work everyone, we really saved them, and hopefully that information broker of Mizuki’s will be able to track down those Yakuza bastards soon.”

There was nodding and conversation broke up, relieved and perhaps a little proud, some of them approaching with claps on the back or words of thanks, telling him to send Mizuki their well wishes and such. Some leaving almost immediately in small clusters or alone, wanting to get home to wives or partners, or in Jin’s case, his dogs, Tio almost wishing Kou had returned with them instead of going to the hospital with Koujaku and the rest of his team, knowing a night with all Jin’s dogs would lift his spirits enormously.

The sense of relief fell over them heavily and when almost everyone had gone, a few left to linger and express concern for the more injured of them, offering help to limp home and making mention of couches that would be empty for the night if anybody wanted to use them, Tio sat down heavily, rubbing at his eyes and feeling shattered.

He heard footsteps approach and he knew there must only be about five of them left, anticipating Kin before he even raised his head to see him, accepting his small smile of understanding and crossing his arms on the table, resting his head on them and facing the emptying bar.

“Your place is only small, right?”

He seemed a little puzzled at first, because he’d visited before so surely he knew how modestly sized it was, but he nodded anyway, knowing an explanation would come.

“Mm, pretty small yeah.”

“Alright, wanna crash at mine? I think Kouhaku and Yuu will as well since their apartments are super tiny,” he gestured to them with a lazy roll of his head, voice turning up a little to ensure they’d hear him and knowing they had as both men dropped their own conversation.

“Sure.”

“Team sleepover, is it?” Yuu grinned, having walked over to them with a smile so wide you’d never have guessed the size of the gash up his calf, barely limping even though his eyes crinkled with pain at the corners, easing into a seat at the booth and Kouhaku regarding him protectively.

“Something like that,” and of the whole group, only Kouhaku seemed to sense the hopelessness in his voice, dark eyes meeting his for too long and forcing him to look away, towards constellations of freckles that couldn’t question him.

 

* * *

 

“I have a double futon, the couch and my bed. First come first served.”

“Futon!” Kouhaku and Yuu yelled at the same time, looking amused but tired as Tio rolled his eyes and admitted defeat, Kin’s mouth not even open and just looking entertained as they high fived and Yuu leaned heavily on Kouhaku’s side, stood there in his borrowed shorts with his leg bandaged up and acting like nothing was wrong.

“I’ll take the couch.”

It was Tio’s turn to frown there, looking from Kin to the couch and back, not even needing to consider it to know what a dumb offer it was, understanding he was being polite but aware how stupid it was to even consider he could sleep on his modest sized couch. “You’re serious right now?”

“Yes?”

“You are six foot, the sofa’ll break your back, take the damn bed you oversized tree,” he’d describe his tone as brusque, and Kin just raised an eyebrow at the snappy essence to him, pondering whether his injuries had influenced his refusal to let him do the nice thing and take the couch.

“That’s offensive.” But he didn’t sound very offended and he was doing that stupid messy grin again, hair damp from the showers they’d all taken, pushed off his forehead but not flopping about for once.

“And so is your face, now shut up and get in my bed.”

“Well that’s rather forward.” Yuu remarked from where he had perched himself on the floor, waiting for his bed to be delivered to him from wherever it lived, seeming perfectly at home as he spread out and his smile turned cheeky, like a naughty teenagers.

“Could at least buy me dinner first,” Kin had caught onto the teasing mood annoyingly fast and just grinned weakly, so as not to re-open his lip, as Tio turned an unimpressed look upon him, feigning disappointment that he’d made such a poor joke.

“I will break the rest of your ribs.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” he raised his hands in mock surrender, smile softening as he realised he’d be forced to his fate but not able to really object much since a bed would always be better than any couch. “Night, guys.”

There were vague goodnights following him as he went, lingering a little awkwardly before he stepped over the threshold into the strange bedroom and the door closed behind him, Tio left to dig out his futon and improvise bedding for three, knowing the others wouldn’t mind if it was only adequate.

 

An hour, maybe two later, and Tio gave up. Puffing out a light huff of annoyed air, sitting up from his couch and almost groaning aloud at the sudden throbbing pain in his lower back, grimacing as he stood and realised his only options were to not sleep, or to reclaim his bed.

Neither option was thrilling, but it was only his exhaustion that had him walking carefully into his bedroom, door left slightly ajar and hoping he wouldn’t either object to sharing the space, or be annoyed at being woken.

But he spoke in a whisper and the dimly lit form on the bed turned slowly, head rising up as he heard his name, “Kin?”

“Mm?”

“My sofa’s uncomfy as fuck.” He didn’t really need to explain why he was there, and Kin proved that a second later, being practical as ever.

“It’s your bed, just get in,” he even pulled back the covers for him, swiping them lazily over the free side of the bed and his own back broad and wide where it faced him, feeling very relieved he’d been considerate enough to sleep against the wall so he wouldn’t have to climb over him. He seemed to be waiting impatiently for him to get in, shuffling over more as he conceded defeat and his spine twinged in pain at the very memory of his couch, clambering in next to him and settling his head down on soft pillows with nervous tension running through his whole body.

He knew it shouldn’t feel awkward, because they were just friends and this was a matter of practicality, but he could feel discomfort thick in the air and had to think of something dumb to say to break the tension, “you know, this is like a sleepover.”

He rolled over to regard him then, face almost hidden in darkness but his poor curtains just allowing enough light that he could make out his features, eyebrow raised and his mouth twitching into that half smile. “That’s really gay.”

“ _You’re_ really gay.”

“Hypocrite.”

He went to reply, but his words broke off with a long, comfortable sort of yawn and it was silently accepted by both of them that they were to go to sleep now, wriggling a little and testing out their new spaces before closing eyes and letting the days weariness wash over them.

 

It couldn’t have been much later when Tio woke up to an unfamiliar sound, taking a few moments for the reality of where he was to sink in, to roll over and realise it was Kin groaning as he adjusted himself beside him that had woken him.

His voice was thick with sleep when he spoke, almost more of a yawn than anything, rolling onto his side to regard him with half-closed eyes, “how’re your ribs?”

“Mm, bit sore. Just bruised I think, they’re probably not broken, I’ll go to the hospital tomorrow to check.”

“Good idea,” he sighed then, blinking his eyes open properly and thinking about what might help, adjusting himself on his side and Kin’s eyes regarding him, fully open despite the late hour. “Do you want some ice or painkillers or anything?”

“Nah, I’m good. But hey, you were worried about me today, huh?”

His voice was always so warm, a million degrees hotter than the air outside the duvet they shared, Tio pulling the covers up around his neck to try and trap in the warm air their bodies produced, not able to explain how relieved he’d felt to see him okay again after seeing him go down. “Of course I was, I mean, you’re pretty much my best friend now.”

“Hm, better not tell Mizuki I’ve taken his spot.”

“I think he knows already,” but suddenly he remembered seeing Kin fall, remembered not being able to do anything in that moment and his smile faded, voice growing nervous and fingers twining nervously into his sheets. “I dunno, you went down pretty hard and nobody had seen you come out. Kinda freaked me out a bit.”

“It was scary, huh? The whole thing, I mean.”

“Yeah, a bit.” That was the thing with being in a big team of men, masculinity seemed to be a contest they all enjoyed participating in and sometimes it got a little ridiculous, they’d refuse to admit fear or anything else ‘girly’, but he guessed in quiet moments between friends the truth was likely to come out. “I’m just glad everyone was okay.”

“Mm, me too. But we should get some sleep.”

“Yeah. But um, I just wanted to say something. As much as I appreciated you… Protecting me, or whatever you wanna call it. Please don’t do anything like that again.” Tio didn’t want to look at him after he’d said that, because it was a stupid thing to have said, he should have said thank you and left it at that and laid down and gone to bed and enjoyed how warm his bed was with another body nearby.

But Kin’s voice was puzzled and he knew if he looked up he’d be scanning his face, searching for the truth he could always spot there, “because it freaked you out?”

“No, just… I don’t know how to say it. It’s stupid, risking yourself for me, I mean, I probably would have been fine. Don't get yourself hurt on my behalf."

“What if I'd rather get hurt than see you hurt? Do you think you’re not worth protecting?" It wasn’t a cushioned blow and it wasn’t soft either, coming out almost annoyed at the mere idea, but then he supposed that made sense with the context of their friendship, hitting the nail on the head so easily it was unnerving.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well fine, the next time somebody’s about to kick you right in the face I’ll just let them, shall I?”

“Are you, angry at me?” He didn’t like the cold tone in his voice, it wasn’t jokey the way it should be, it was hard and irritated and taken for granted and Tio regretted even going into his bedroom at all now, wishing he’d stayed on the couch to suffer.

“No.” He wasn’t good at confrontation, and really the more he thought about it, a Rib team was the last thing he should be involved in, but he spoke up anyway, nervously, knowing he’d be rebuked, because if he was lying to Kin, he had every right to lie back.

“You seem kinda angry.”

“I’m fine, let’s just go to bed.”

 

He just lay there for a long moment, aware the other was making no effort to return to sleep, eyes still open and blinking absently, wondering if he was watching him and feeling guilt settle heavily on his gut when he shifted and his exhale was pained. “Kin?”

“Mm.” His voice was soft again now, whatever he’d been feeling before, anger or not, having ebbed away and the warmth, the safety of this settling in, remembering that everything was over and there was no need for either to worry about the other.

“Thank you.” Tio paused for a second then, weighing up what he was about to do and so aware it was stupid but wanting to do it anyway, to thank Kin the way he knew he’d want to be thanked even if he’d never voice it, just shifting closer.

He was rather nice to kiss, he supposed, his lips were quite thin but soft enough and he just tasted of toothpaste and some other familiar flavour he couldn’t identify properly. Letting their lips overlap once and careful to miss the painful split, avoiding the tender middle of his mouth and just getting the outer edge.

Kin didn’t reply, and Tio realised with a sinking feeling in his chest that he hadn’t kissed back either, just lay there silently and let the touch happen, voice neutral but lowering towards the end, deeper than normal, as if he couldn’t speak the words aloud. “You don’t have to thank me. Especially not like that.” His breath caught the tiniest amount, and if they weren’t in the same bed Tio would certainly have missed it, “we’re friends. You don’t- You don’t owe me anything for helping you, that’s what friends do.”

Silence reigned then, because there was this horrible weight in his mouth, sticking his tongue to the veiny base below his teeth and squashing his words as if in a vice, unable to look in his direction and staring at his ceiling instead, unfamiliar as he lay on the wrong side of the bed. But then the spell of mistakes broke and he couldn’t be there anymore, muttering something about needing to piss, a clear lie the other accepted quietly, rolling over to face the wall, to face away from him.

 

He almost laughed when he entered his living room, sudden sight of Kouhaku and Yuu amusing enough to distract him from what a crappy thing he’d just done, not surprised that Yuu had taken the blanket for himself, Kouhaku forced to curl close to him to stay warm. But his smile faded soon because they were best friends too and best friends treated each other well, they stole blankets not kisses and they wouldn’t find it awkward to share a bed but him and Kin couldn’t even do that, the simplest of things. Perhaps it was him who had ruined things with Mizuki and would with Kin too, given the time, maybe he was the toxic one who took people for granted and did whatever he wanted. But it was early now and he did need to piss a little, staring at himself in the mirror and lightly stroking fingers across the soft pad of skin under his eye that blossomed with a bruise.

When he returned, sneaking past Kouhaku and Yuu who were practically spooning now, Kin didn’t stir, back rising and falling with even breaths for the whole five minutes Tio just stared at him, stood in the middle of his bedroom and feeling out of place. What was most horrible though, was that he knew if his head wasn’t so tangled with Mizuki and Sly that he’d be pleased to have him in his bed, he’d feel nervous anticipation like he was a teenager again. But he slid into bed next to him, forced up against him where he took up all the space, and felt nothing but a dull ache in his chest for the mistakes he’d made and the ones he kept making,

By the time he fell asleep Kin had rolled over again, unconsciously moving closer to him as he turned and his nose almost pressed into his shoulder, stupid fringe brushing his collarbones and breaths warm where they fluttered over his skin. His dreams were empty and not worth remembering, full of vague shapes and things he sought after but couldn’t run fast enough to catch, stuck behind them in the cold and surrendering to his fate as ice crusted up his feet and he couldn’t run even if he’d wanted to.

 

* * *

 

 

“Man, you look like hell.”

“Thanks, I just got back.” He deadpanned it, not seeing any humour in it even as Sly snorted and looked mildly impressed at how quickly he’d responded, and with something clever too despite the injuries he could see on his body and the exhaustion his eyes betrayed.

“Huh, that’s a good line.”

“I’m glad you find it so funny.”

“So where have you been?” He was looking away already, uninterested after the initial realisation that all was good and the bartender still lived to serve him, playing absently with a small Swiss army knife Mizuki had never seen before, flicking the uselessly tiny saw open and closed again with an annoying, repetitive metallic sound.

“Rescuing Beni-Shigure and Koujaku.”

“From where?”

“More like from who.”

A roll of eyes then, amused but playing along with this like it was a game, legs spread wide and almost arrogant where he’d been perched on his couch, watching as Mizuki lit a cigarette, figuring that he may as well linger to have one now he had some company. “Alright, so from who?”

“Morphine.” He sighed heavily then and Sly looked surprised even though he’d surely known that already, perhaps having doubted it even as Noiz told him that was surely the case, tilting his head to see him better and voice weak as he continued. “You were right, Sly. They were bad news. Thank you.”

“Least you were smart enough to listen to me. So, what happened to them?”

“The team are mainly okay, they were acting weird but they seem fairly normal now. Koujaku’s in intensive care. His…. His brain got fried or something, I don’t know.” He waved his hand vaguely, as terrible as it sounded, he didn’t have much desire to think about it, he’d deal with it later, for now he just wanted to lie down and sleep until his aching body healed and the fear niggling in the back of his head died.

“Want to fuck, to take your mind off it?”

“That’s a sweet offer, but no thanks. I need to clean myself up first.”

“Alright, guess I’ll be off then,” he even stood as he spoke and only then did the idea of his empty apartment terrify him, wondering if he should have stayed with the rest of Dry Juice instead of slinking home the way he had, not even explaining to Tio and just fading away instead.

“You don’t have to leave just because we’re not having sex.”

“Having sex?” He looked mocking, amused at the terminology he’d chosen, softer than he’d like and almost offended at the mere idea, not even mildly upset by the incredibly weak glare the bartender shot him, face so morose he almost felt bad for being mean.

“You know what I mean. I’ve had a long day, please don’t be a dick for once.”

“There’s not much point me being here otherwise.”

That was a reminder he didn’t need but he was too weary to comment that he didn’t have to act like he’d never hung around before for no reason, just gesturing absently to his kitchen and the living room instead of expending any more of his emptying energy supplies. “Yeah, I get that. Just… Could you just stick around for a bit? I dunno, steal my food, watch TV, whatever. I just…”

“Don’t wanna be by yourself.” There wasn’t any judgement, and that alone clouded his reply with surprise, he’d just finished his sentence easily, like he knew him inside out, had remarked something he’d usually mock him for calmly and clearly.

“I guess.”

“Alright, though it’s not stealing if you just told me I could.”

“Under no circumstances can you eat any of my food. Better?” He didn’t really need the bartenders’ food now he had Noiz and his seemingly endless bank account, but he decided not to mention that, and besides, Mizuki always had this one type of biscuits he really liked and he wouldn’t object to eating a whole pack while he showered, just nodding in approval.

“Much.”

“Awesome. I’m going for a shower.”

 

“I thought I was going to die today.” Sly didn’t respond, but he lowered the TV remote and left the set off, screen black and reflecting the slumped forwards form of the bartender, shoulders loose and hair dripping water down his neck and back. Sly’s eyes followed a droplet trace its way down his pulse point, growing into a large wet mark on his shirt, gaze flickering over Mizuki’s face, trying to work out what point he was making, what he might want to hear in response.

His sarcastic responses died in his throat, the remark that he’d probably had some last pitiful thought about Sly before he felt the end was coming, that he was all sorts of weak for thinking a simple fight would be the end of him. “But you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t,” the towel fell from around his neck then, trailing to the floor almost unnoticed by either of them, a hand offered towards him palm up, skin lighter there than it would be were he to turn it, to show bruised knuckles instead of rough fingertips. “Come here.”

His voice was soft, really soft, and a little scared, like the street kid he’d once hidden from a man chasing after him, suddenly, painfully, reminded of the vulnerable look in his eyes as he’d sought comfort from the only person near, had remembered tucking him into his side and concealing him. But he didn’t like hearing that in Mizuki’s voice, because he was strong, and stable and the only reliable thing in his life and his chest felt weirdly squeezed suddenly, like the one time he’d seen his Grandma cry but this was much worse.

So he took the hand offered and shifted across the couch, into his lap and closer than normal, arms around his middle encircling him completely and feeling his throat tighten at the sudden shallow air between them as Mizuki’s head just rested on his chest.

“What are you doing?”

The reply took a moment and all he could hear was deep breathing then a long exhale and a shake of his head, damp hair leaving a wet patch on his stolen hoodie, “mn, nothing. Sorry. Just, stay like this a minute, okay?”

He didn’t know what ‘this’ was at first, until Mizuki reached up to his neck and pulled him into his body, frame tensing under his hands and stiff in his hold, nose against his skin and breath washing over his neck not helping him to relax. His eyes were flickering around, looking for an escape because this was too weird, too close and warm and his body was getting used to it while his mind was still elsewhere, like the two parts of him refused to work together. He needed to think of something snarky to say to stop this, to make him laugh or get annoyed or anything that would end this, saying the first thing that came to mind.

“You lived to fuck another day.”

He snorted then, allowing him to move back and smirk down at him, smile almost exasperated with fondness as he gazed at him, “wow, you really know how to ruin the mood, huh?”

“What mood?”

“Never mind,” he shook his head instead of responding with what he wanted to know, just staring at him for a moment longer, gaze almost blanking out and unnerving him before he snapped back to reality and reached up to kiss him.

It was soft, too soft in fact, but whenever the bartender showed this gentle side of him Sly somehow seemed to melt, just reluctantly letting him set the pace, lips growing harder on his and moulding together wetly. But still too slow, almost tender where they joined and parted and Mizuki’s fingers sliding into his shirt to rub circles across his skin, situation somehow reminding him of the first time he’d ever made out with somebody and it had been careful and soft and intimate.

That made him snap out of it, the mere idea he’d be intimate with somebody even if it was Mizuki unnerving him, reaching for the hem of his shirt instead and lifting it over his head, actually freezing at the sight of his chest and feeling his eyes widen.

“Mizuki, what the fuck even ha-“

“We’re not talking about it,” his tone was hard and Sly felt taken aback for a moment because he was the one who’d been all quiet and nice about this, to change the mood now made him feel strangely yelled at and he drew back. “It’s not important, okay? Sorry, just… You came here to fuck, right? So let’s fuck.”

“Why are you trying to distract me?”

“So you _don’t_ want to fuck?”

“Maybe I want to know why you’re being all weird and... I don’t fucking know,” he didn’t know how to describe it, but he sure as fuck wasn’t going to say intimate when the mere word scared him so much, when he couldn’t define it but knew somehow he understood it now, using any other phrase he could think of. “Cuddly, gentle, whatever. It’s _weird_.”

“Intimate?”

“Something like that. Is this because you thought you were gunna die?” A change of topic then, to distract from that fucking word he couldn’t stop remembering, defining in lingering of fingers or hands pushing back hair, in soft, warm smiles and darts of eyes.

“Hm, maybe.”

“Never a straight answer from you.” There was the hypocrisy he’d built his character on.

“I just…” He paused to sigh then, smiling self-depreciatingly as he continued on, averting his eyes and cheeks a little pink. “I know this is really gay, so don’t take the piss, alright? I just wanted to be close to somebody. I guess.”

That _was_ really gay, but he’d been asked not to take the piss and even though he hadn’t agreed he supposed mocking him wouldn’t have the same effect as actually questioning that would, because he wanted to work something out for once, tone incredulous. “And you chose me?”

“I don’t exactly have a lot of other options.”

“True. But you know a great way to be close to me would be to have your dick in me.”

He didn’t even recoil at how blunt he was, didn’t mention it at all, just explained why he didn’t want to do as he was demanding, suggesting, whatever the fuck he was doing, any intimacy they might have had dying away the minute Sly decided it would. “I’ve had a long day, I’m way too tired for that.”

“I can do all the work.”

“Not today, Sly, okay? Can you just... _Be_ , for ten minutes?”

“Be what exactly?” Mizuki didn’t reply and he just used the silence to light a cigarette, still perched in Mizuki’s lap and not intending on moving, more out of stubbornness than anything else, remaining firmly planted there, in the perfect spot to knee him right in the dick were he to get more weird with him. He raised an expectant eyebrow, ignoring the hands on his waist urging him to come in closer, remaining a suitable distance away even as they inhaled the same air, sharing space and not much else.

“I _really_ need your cooperation here, Sly.”

“Oh please,” fuck his fresh cigarette, this situation was getting stupid and he stubbed it out even as he snapped back at him, incredulous and snarling at him so hard and bitter it was almost a sneer, lip curled. “It’s not my cooperation you need.”

“Then what do I need? Hm? What do I need?” He wouldn’t reply, his jaw was set like it had been wired shut with steel and his eyes were twice as metallic, nostrils flaring and not even meeting his eye, staring intently, stubbornly at the wall behind his head because Sly wouldn’t allow the word love to sully his lips. “You don’t have to love me back.”

He hadn’t replied with scorn and anger, so he figured he was safe enough to settle down onto the lap he’d recently tried to abandon, lighting a fresh cigarette he intended on finishing this time, a gift from Noiz, brand written in some language he didn’t recognise and coffee flavoured, sending pleasant smelling smoke into the air along with his words. “Isn’t that how it works?”

“You know how it works?”

“No, but neither do you.”

“True. So, if I don’t have to…” He wouldn’t say it, saying things made them real and whatever it was Mizuki felt couldn’t be real so it would never become so, his lips would never spill the four lettered term. “Feel the same, what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Wow, you’re helpful today. So that’s all you have to say on the subject, is it?” He stubbornly ignored the fingers poking at his own, empty of cigarette as it dangled between his lips, easily switching smoking hands so Mizuki could rub warmth into his cold digits with firm strokes of his thumb.

“I just think we should be together all the time.”

His eyes raised from where their hands linked, not sure yet it he wanted to tear away or let this continue a little longer, his hands were warm after all and his were always so cold in this bitter winter air that whirled outside the thick windows. His expression was disbelieving and his tone somewhat sceptical, “all the time?”

“If you wanted to be,” he shrugged, like it was a small thing and Sly’s lungs weren’t growing tighter in his chest as he fought the urge to just run, to break free of this hold and smash through a window and just fucking _run_ until he coughed up blood.

So he just smiled instead and shrugged too, because he’d never really known what he wanted before and he sure as hell didn’t now, just focusing on the beats of his heart and the blood thrumming in a percussive beat through his veins. “All the time is a lot.”

“Okay, so just some of the time.”

“But we’re together some of the time now,” anything to argue against this, anything that would get him away from this situation and make Mizuki drop it and go back to holding his hand in this peaceful silence or even being angry at him. _Anything._

“More of the time then.”

He sighed but it was weak and shaking, turning his head to look away from tan skin on fragile white, to avert his gaze from the softness as if somehow not being able to see would remove his ability to feel, one he had only just begun to grow and already wished would die. “How.”

“You could stay,” he’d been softer before, joking and trying to make him comfortable, but now his need, his desires, were painfully obvious and they made his skin crawl because he didn’t want him to stay the way Sly wanted him to. “Sometimes, if it’s cold or… Or just if you wanted to.”

“I never wanted this,” but it wasn’t strong, or spat or angry, it was low and sad and it made something in his chest come loose and he could feel resentment coursing over him, hot and thick and choking his throat with moisture. “I never wanted any of this.”

“I know, I didn’t either.”

“Well it’s your fault! You’re the one that started this whole fucking thing so don’t come to me with that horse-shit!” He’d yanked his hands free then, standing and irritation, infuriation, building to boiling point and making his spine burn as he stood straight and tall and aggressive, quiet moment shattered and growing angrier as he dared to think he might miss it.

It only took Mizuki a moment to respond though, reacting slower, taking in the distance between them and nothing more than pure confusion powering his words, spitting them out and hating his tone. “God, Sly, what made you like this? Why can’t you even let yourself consider this, you won’t even accept its happening, what happened to you to make you so cold?”

“My parents left me! Okay? They fucking left me! Is that what you want to hear?”

“I’m an orphan too.”

“I’m not a fucking _orphan_ ,” he spat it like it was something dirty, something to be ashamed of and Mizuki felt hurt for a split second, before he realised what that meant, that Sly had truly been left behind without a second glance back whereas his parents had never bothered to so much as look at him. “They’re alive somewhere. They fucked off and went travelling and never came back. They left me here with my granny who hates me when I was just a fucking kid, so don’t you try and tell me you know how shit that is because you have _no_ idea.”

“I’m not your parents.”

“I know, but I’m not going to let you get near me just to fuck me over again, I will not be left again, I fucking _refuse_ , so keep your love to yourself, alright?” He’d opened up too much there and Mizuki was the exact type of asshole to analyse his words even when he was yelling them, changing tactic to scream about Mizuki’s flaws instead of his own. “God, what do you even want from me? To hold you and stroke your hair and say that it’s okay, I’ll love you even though your parents never did?”

“Get out.”

“No, fuck you!”

“Get _out_!” He’d slapped him then, and in the silence where he wondered why on earth he hadn’t just punched him, all he could hear was Sly’s heavy, ragged breaths as he fought to control his anger. Then he exhaled a half laugh that held no humour and he dared to look up, Sly’s expression hard and his eyes averted, showing some emotion he couldn’t even register but that was more hurt than he’d expected.

“You know what? I might not know how to love somebody, but even if I did I wouldn’t want to love somebody as fucked up as you. You act all innocent and lovely, like this amazing Rib leader who’d never do any wrong but all you do is fucking _want._ You decide you want somebody and you fucking grind and grind on them until they give in and you get whatever it is you want.” The words were pouring out unbidden and he hadn’t even realised he’d thought any of this until it exploded in words that came so quickly it was amazing he didn’t stumble over them, voice spitting and hissing by the time he was done. “Well fuck you, I’m not going to fucking give in any time soon you selfish, arrogant bastard! Keep your fucking wallowing to yourself. You’re _pathetic_!”

Time fell thick between them, memories and seconds and infinite periods of time stilling and skipping over and over until it could have been ten minutes or a million lifetimes that they stood there, Sly’s shoulders trembling with rage and Mizuki unable to form a single thought.

“Aren’t you going to defend your wonderful reputation? Fucking say _something!_ ”

“I didn’t know you knew that many words.”

“Well wow, _fuck you_.” He nearly opened his mouth again, nearly stayed to say more and pretend not to have regretted anything he said so far, but his sense kicked in and he left instead, slamming the door behind him and stalking through the streets with his chest tight with rage.

He’d wanted to scream, to grab a fistful of Mizuki’s hair and scream into his face that he’d fucked things up again, that it was never even Sly l who ruined things, that for a moment he’d been okay with just sitting there quietly, with just _being_. But no, Mizuki had to worm his way under his skin again, which was fine in theory but he always tore free when he was so deep it ripped him open, he could never just make a flesh wound, no, he had to puncture organs.

He was angry and confused and didn’t know what to do, going as far as to pick up his coil and type out a proposition to Noiz he’d never send, because yes he wanted to screw this away but he wasn’t so far gone yet to involve him in this fucked up thing. So he changed his course for Grime, for cheap booze that would make him choke and drugs to dull his head and for hands to take him away from himself for a little while. For hands he didn’t want there instead of the darkened skin he’d dared to crave for even a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Designs, updates, ficart and other things of interest- [here](http://minky-way.tumblr.com/tagged/intravenous-series)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist @ [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/minky-way/03-infected)

He hadn’t really intended to go to his Grannys after their fight, but somehow he’d ended up there, glad when all the lights were off and sneaking inside only to find the house empty and cold, her shoes missing and her bag too. So he went for a bath that trailed on too long and left him cold, took some leftovers from the fridge that still smelled good, and sat cross legged on the empty living room floor, staring at the blank TV screen and feeling emptiness fill the space in his chest where rage had been.

  
He’d fallen into  a restless slumber a couple of hours later, waking with aching bones to see sunlight beginning to peek through the living room window and realising he’d fallen asleep on the hard wood floor, dragging himself up the stairs with leaden bones.

His sheets didn’t smell familiar and it took him a long time after to get comfortable.

 

* * *

 

 

If she was surprised to see him there the next morning it wasn’t evident, watery eyes watching him remove more leftovers from the fridge without asking, chopsticks in his hand and hair hanging in damp tendrils around his cheeks where he’d had another bath purely because he could. “Where’ve you been?"

“Hospital.”

“All night?” She didn’t respond to that, just quietly undid her coat and placed it over the back of her usual chair, sinking into the wood tiredly and with a wince of pain he didn’t miss, toeing her shoes off under the table, wide fitting loafers to hold her swollen feet. “How is he?”

“Unlike you to ask.”

“Yeah, I get it, I’m a piece of shit. I was just asking.”

She didn’t reprimand him, didn’t calmly mention that she hadn’t said that, because it was heavily implied in the look she shot him as he lit up a cigarette, she just averted her gaze as his remained on her, waiting for an answer to his earlier question. “Not good.”

He nodded, slowly now, with the weight of bad news falling heavy on his shoulders, not sure if he should feel devastated instead of this strange nothingness that surrounded him, asking the only question he could think of, seeing her mouth folding into a frown for a second, “how long?”

“Maybe two weeks.”

“Mm. Call me, if anything happens.”

“Call you?” Now her bewilderment was clear, scanning him until her eyes landed on the bracelet-style coil on his slim wrist, clanking on the table as he scooped noodles into his mouth with one hand and tapped his cigarette free of ash with the other. Her fingers lingered on the saucer he was dirtying with tar, expression almost softening as she recognised the design she'd always hated.

“I got a coil. A… friend gave me it.”

She just nodded, that slow nod he could never work out, unsure if it meant she believed him or not, wondering what she thought, that he’d stolen it, or been given it as payment for something, or gotten it in some other unsavoury manner she didn’t care to think of let alone ask about. He wanted to know what she’d say if he told her the truth; the friend is the leader of Dry Juice, he owns a bar and is a tattooist, he’s nice but doesn't let me get away with shit. People speak to him with respect.

He wondered what she’d say if he told her Mizuki was in love with him. But he wouldn’t tell her and she wouldn’t ask.

“I’ll write down the number.”

She’d eased herself up by the time he finished, bending down painfully slowly to retrieve her shoes, holding her back and groaning quietly as she shuffled away, sound of her footfalls on the stairs a moment later the only clue he got as to her intention. Sly left there with the strange, sudden feeling of repulsion in his chest, the short glimpse he’d gotten of her feet and ankles so disgusting to him he felt almost ashamed. Her swollen, oversized feet and ankles stuffed into flesh coloured tights that were short like socks, hiding the bulging blue veins and discoloured, bruised flesh of her legs, so harsh it was like a slap to the face, another reminder of her age and her increasing fragility.

They were hardly a family as it was, but it seemed like none of them were normal, either too old to function, to do anything but tut and disapprove and silently judge, or coughing up a lung with blobs of bloody phlegm and looking constantly on the verge of death. He found suddenly that he’d rather lost his appetite.

 

* * *

 

 

“Kin, can I talk to you?” He’d been ignoring him and they both knew it, he hadn’t even been subtle about it, he hadn’t spoken to him all shift and the only reason he was now was because he had no choice. He couldn’t escape now, things still needed doing and he valued his job, to flee would be a new level of pettiness Tio didn’t think Kin was capable of.

“What about?”

“Tuesday.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Well… there is.” A hint of an uncomfortable laugh had seeped into his voice but Kin’s expression hadn’t changed one bit and his smile faded to nothing, dropping from his face and leaving him feeling strangely exposed.

“Okay, then I’d rather not talk about it.”

“I- I just wanted to say sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did. It wasn’t fair.”

His face was crinkled in confusion but he looked offended more than anything and Tio felt the odd prickling of fear build in his throat, choking him as he realised how little he wanted to say this. “Fair? How wasn’t it fair.”

“Well, you, I mean, I know you-“

“You know what? What exactly do you know about me?” He’d turned on him then, actually and figuratively, height intimidating for the first time and voice barbed, accusatory, saying implicitly that he didn’t know anything, that he shouldn’t talk such crap about somebody he barely knew.

“I- Kin,” he had no right to be hurt but he was, he’d never heard him like this, voice offended and almost exasperated because he was trying to fix this and the irony of another voice saying those exact words rang in his head for a second, just feeling his eyes crinkle as he took an unconscious step back.

“Just leave it, okay? It’s not like it meant anything.”

He hadn’t expected that to hurt either, but it did, because it had meant something, it had meant he was grateful, and cared about him. It meant that he was trying.

 

* * *

 

 

“Kin’s not talking to me.” Conversation had been a little lax on the journey there, but with almost half an hour of walking to do it was beginning to get suffocating and Tio figured he may as well break the silence. Mizuki wasn’t talking because he was nervous and scared, he had no real reason not to so he figured he would, besides, he wanted to say it aloud so it would seem more real. Some strange part of his brain was telling him it was too ridiculous to be anything but an invented scenario in his head.

“Really? How come?”

He was aware he maybe should have hesitated, or been embarrassed or whatever, but he wasn’t and it slipped out easily and this was how talking to Mizuki should always be, feeling relief as he just nodded slowly, considering this. “I kissed him, after we got Beni-Shigure.”

“So… Why would that mean he’s not talking to you?”

“Because I shouldn’t have.”

“But, doesn’t he like you?”

“It’s not that simple, Mizuki. You don’t just kiss the person who likes you and immediately fall in love or something.” His voice softened then, accepting the cigarette he was offered and smiling faintly as his words escaped and the bartender let out a quiet noise of understanding. “Surely you know that.”

 

* * *

 

It smelt too clean. That same, horrible stench of cleanliness that you knew was just covering up some other awful thing, blood or dying bodies or the scent of sickness that penetrated the hallways they squeezed down. The general ward where Beni-Shigure had been put was the source of the attention, friends and family, all sorts of well-wishers come to see them if not only to ogle and be nosy, hospital staff giving up on asking for ID and just letting them do as they pleased. But they bypassed this and the crowd of people holding flowers and chocolates and all sorts of other gifts for the suffering team.

  
Their journey took them further along that floor of the hospital, to the single room where they knew Koujaku lay, worker on the door recognising Mizuki immediately and just nodding at him as he opened the door for them.

It was like entering a bubble, the air was suddenly too thick and too thin, hard to suck in to rasping lungs but not supplying enough oxygen to their brains, feeling fuzzy headed and the light streaming through the blinds not helping. The sound from outside suddenly died and all there was were mechanical noises, the circular concertina that puffed up with air and deflated, supplying the mask that lay across a pale face, the beep of the heart monitor machine, the steady plop of the drips winding into his arms.

Mizuki approached first while Tio lingered behind, feeling out of place, seeing a tattoo on Koujaku’s face he’d always hidden before and thinking that perhaps neither of them should be here. But then they shouldn’t have seen his meltdown either, shouldn’t have witnessed a strong, brave man crumble to nothing, suddenly remembering his mouth frothing and his eyes rolling back into his skull and feeling sick.

“It’s fine, Tio, come on,” he hadn’t realised how terrified he must have looked, weirdly, nonsensically so, Mizuki just smiling over at him and gesturing to the seat on the opposite side of his bed. When he lowered himself down he felt like they were flanking him, one on each side but strangely it was him who felt trapped, staring at his unmoving face, at the wide tube helping him breathe.

It was hard, knowing what exactly to do, what to say, because could he even hear anything?, But Mizuki took that concern out of his mind, smile not believable but words coming out warm enough, “hey, Koujaku. You should see how many people have come to see your team, the hallways are _packed._ Man, you’ve never been more popular!”

Despite the heaviness of this, the fact that the other leader couldn’t even smile in response, Mizuki’s calm, reassuring trickle of words made something in Tio’s shoulders droop and he relaxed back into the chair, letting Mizuki’s words wash over him as much as they were Koujaku.

 

* * *

 

He saved the heaviness until they’d left the room, door closing behind them and actually sighing, like he’d been saving up oxygen in there only to let it all spill out of parted lips now, eyes closed as he eased himself back into the present. “God. That could have been me, Tio. So easily, they even came to me first.”

“I know, I know, but it wasn’t you. The Doctors said he should wake up really soon, then they can assess him and get him into rehab or whatever he needs. He’ll recover, Mizuki.”

“Yeah. He’ll recover, but will he be the same?”

“I- I don’t know,” he didn’t know the answer, the doctors and specialists didn’t know the answer, it seemed nobody did, maybe even the ones who had done this to him weren’t entirely sure of what the long-term effects would be. It was like his mind had shattered immediately, remembering with the taste of bile in his mouth the strong leader, crouched on the ground with his head in his hands, eyes either watering or overflowing with tears, mouth foaming and screaming. “Come on, let’s go see Kou and the others.”

 

The hospital was still busier than they’d expected after a couple of hours spent with Koujaku, but with all of Beni-Shigure there it made sense the amount of visitors would be heavier than usual, and they were bustled and shoved at all the way back down the hallway. Tio didn’t mind much, most people apologised or at least looked sorry if they managed to make eye contact, but then somebody brushed past him he recognised, not in sight though, too busy being squashed between Mizuki and an irritated looking nurse. He recognised his smell first, which was bizarre as it was, unable to pin it to a person but knowing it was infinitely familiar, then the voice murmured a low ‘sorry’, and he knew who it was instantly even with their voice reluctant and deliberately lowered to be unfamiliar.

“Kin?” The form next to him stiffened and he knew he’d been right, twisting to face the opposite direction and Mizuki managing to worm his way free of the crowd, frowning as he realised he was alone, trying to pick out Tio in the crowd of similar-heighted people, eyes finding Kin and realising his lips were moving to speak to somebody.

He just nodded slowly, not sure if he felt abandoned or not, and ducked into the ward where Beni-Shigure were anyway, figuring it would be good to show his face and Kou’s tired expression lighting up when he saw him making him sure of his decision.

 

It wasn’t hard to worm his way out of the blockage, he just stood behind Kin and they almost parted for him, taller man actually waiting for him in silence once he was free, Tio only noticing then the bunch of flowers in his hand, forehead furrowing because there was no way he’d be visiting Beni-Shigure with flowers.

“Kin?” He meant to ask who he was going to visit, what he was doing there, to ask why his posture was slumped today, why he looked like he had the weight of the universe on his broad shoulders, but he just offered over a small smile and gestured for him to follow along.

They ended up in an elevator, heading up a couple of floors, away from the Rib team and proving his theory right, that he knew another person there, about to ask again when he started talking and he abruptly shut up.

“There was a fire at my house when I was little. My father came home drunk and fell asleep with a cigarette in his hand, dropped it, caught the rug on fire. My mother was all about cushions and… nice curtains, blankets to put over the couch, stupid flammable things, it went up really fast. She woke up first, she smelled smoke, managed to wake up my father and drag him out.” He paused then, staring at himself in one mirrored wall, flowers held carefully in his hand and Tio realising with increasing concern who they might be for, who they might be travelling towards. “She came back for me, the fire was pretty big by then but I was okay, burnt my hand on the doorknob, but that was it, bit of smoke in my lungs, completely fine. She fell, getting out, her legs were really badly burnt, tripped down the stairs at the front, whacked her head. Got, um, brain damage, I guess you’d call it, the smoke damaged her eyes too, they tried surgery but she’s blind now. So.”

Silence descended again but somehow it wasn’t that heavy, it felt almost familiar, comfortable, and Tio just hummed lightly, considering this new information, realising that Kin had lied to him about his family but not feeling even a little angry, understanding why.

There’d been something in the way he said the words that implied he wasn’t distressed by this anymore, that yes it had happened, and yes it was horrible, but he was over it now and it was just an unfortunate event. So he didn’t soften his voice or say he was sorry or anything else useless like that, he just continued speaking in the matter of fact way Kin had, sensing his relief when sympathy didn’t flow from him pityingly. “You never mentioned your mother to me.”

“Mm, I don’t really talk about her much. My father remarried pretty soon after, divorced her when she had no idea what was going on, asked if I wanted to go with them to the mainland or stay with her. So I stayed and I haven’t heard from him or my stepmother since.”

“Do you miss him?” Rather a blunt question he supposed, but he guessed it would be hard to not miss a parent who had up and left so abruptly, though based on his brief description of his father, the lack of emotion when he said he’d been drunk, he wondered if maybe he was glad he’d gone.

“No. I think if I saw him now I’d punch him for leaving us like he did.”

“That’s understandable.” The silence wasn’t so bad now, it was almost nice, sharing a secret like this, and Tio felt like he’d been forgiven already, because why would he have told him this if he didn’t want to continue their friendship? But then things started clicking together, Kin’s occasional refusal to go out anywhere that was a little expensive, the dirt cheap clothing stores he knew he shopped at, the tiny apartment he lived in even though his wages should have funded much more. “So, hang on wait, do you have two jobs to pay for the hospital bills?”

“Yeah, my rents dirt cheap cause I live in such a shit place, it all just pays for her treatment. If we had care homes I’d have put her in one ages ago, but all we have is the hospital and I can’t care for her at home so… She has to stay here.” He shrugged, smiling even though it was a shitty situation to be in and it must be pretty distressing, “my father paid for a while, but contact with the mainland got cut off and I realised I didn’t want him to do anything for us anymore, so it was good timing I suppose. I don’t know how much of it she knows, she’s… Well, she’s better some days than others.”

“Must be hard.”

“It’s not all bad, at least I still have her, I guess,” the lift doors opened then and Tio paused, not sure if he was intruding if he continued, Kin just inclining his head at him with a smile that said he understood the hesitation. “You can come meet her, if you want?”

That was all he needed, nodding and bracing himself for whatever state she might be in, hoping it wouldn’t be as bad as he anticipated because Kin’s disposition made so much more sense now, because how could you not be empathetic to a fault living in a situation like his?

 

The ward was quieter and less clinical than the room Koujaku had been in, it was obviously a place people stayed long term, beds covered in colourful blankets and possessions littering the cabinets beside the large armchairs for guests. A few other people had guests, sat around laughing and talking, maybe holding hands with whoever lay in the bed, one pair playing scrabble in the corner, nothing odd about it until the patient tried to eat the letters and the other grew alarmed.

But they headed for a bed in the middle of the room where a middle aged lady lay, propped up on bright cushions and with a pink shawl wrapped around her shoulders, mouth moving as if muttering to herself, not quite stopping as they arrived.

“Hi, mum, I brought a friend to see you today,” Tio felt so suddenly uncomfortable he couldn’t even put it into words, regarding the woman sat up in bed with nervousness he felt terrible for feeling, unable to stop staring at the cloudy white of both her eyes, knowing she couldn’t see a thing and not sure if he felt unnerved or sorry for her. “This is Tio, he works with me at the bar.”

She moved then, as if she’d understood, holding out a hand blindly into the air, lingering there and Kin explaining rapidly what she wanted, “oh, she um, wants to feel your hand, she always does it with new people.”

He just nodded in understanding, offering his hand out with little reluctance and leaving it in place even as she felt it rather intensely, both hands coming to envelop it and trace across his palm and each fingertip, across his still lightly grazed knuckles. She seemed bored of it soon though, lingering for a second on his wrist before dropping his hand abruptly and turning to face in the wrong direction, “did you bring the dominoes, Ushio?”

He stopped moving suddenly, faltering where he’d gotten closer to presumably kiss or hug her in greeting, expression flickering as he gave up and moved away, stammering only the tiniest amount. “I- It’s Kin, mum. Ushio isn’t here.”

“Kin?”

“Yeah, Kin.” Her expression showed no recognition, in fact it showed almost nothing and Kin’s hands tightened as he continued, trying to gently remind her of who he was, because sightless or not, she shouldn’t have forgotten that. “Your son.”

“Oh,” she nodded then, but went back to staring out of the window, or not staring, ignoring them both and Kin avoiding Tio’s concerned gaze to step around the bed and put the flowers into a vase, arranging them neatly and with skilled fingers, like he’d done it a million times before.

 

She didn’t talk much at first, but then a nurse showed up asking to talk with Kin and he stepped aside, behind the curtain that surrounded her bed, shooting Tio an apologetic look and leaving him to think, with severe guilt, that he was glad she was blind only so she couldn’t see him fidgeting.

But then she spoke, a sudden, random, nonsensical comment about how lovely the hydrangeas were, and from then she didn’t shut up, babbling on about so many different, unrelated things that Tio gave up trying to even follow. Nor did he speak in return, she seemed content enough that there was somebody there to listen, often stopping abruptly in the middle of a manic thought to look in his direction.

He couldn’t tell if he felt sorry for her or not, because she didn’t seem unhappy in any way but then he supposed that maybe she just had no idea what was going on, stuck in her own head. He wondered if it was nice, to be free like that.

“Could you pass me my bag, dear?”

This though, was a normal sentence and made sense, blinking in confusion because he’d just gotten used to her rambling when suddenly she snapped back almost to normality, smiling in his direction and lines on her face suddenly soft and motherly.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” he wasn’t sure if this was even a genuine request, she could begin talking about elephants again any moment, or a paving slab made of cheese, but she just held out her hand and he lifted the small black bag from the floor into her grasp. But of course she opened the bag and all sense that she might not be completely mad faded, material crammed with what looked like dozens of scraps of paper, or maybe wrappers from something.

Her hands felt over them carefully as if searching for something, then slim, scarred fingers plucked out a single brown circle of thin, crinkling plastic and proffered it to him, waving it insistently until he took it with a quiet, confused thanks. Her expression remained neutral, normal, but then she giggled and it was almost endearing, Tio smiling even as she resumed her one-way conversation.

“Of course the toilet brush was never a canary…”

 

Kin returned moments later and Tio was almost sad he hadn’t seen the moment of sheer lucidity on her face, realising then he didn’t know her name and feeling a little guilty even as he asked. He was told with a smile, too narrow and pained as she couldn’t respond for herself and they only stayed for about ten minutes longer, every attempt at making actual conversation with her dying and Kin standing with a shake of his head, saying it was pointless to stay on days like this.

“It was nice to meet you, Kino-san.” She paused as if she’d heard him, seen his respectful bow and registered fully what he’d said, silencing long enough for Kin to kiss her on the cheek and receive an absent pat on the arm before she spoke and his momentary relaxation died.

“No use crying over boiled frogs.”

“No, I suppose there isn’t, mum. I’ll come back next week, alright?” She didn’t reply at all, unseeing eyes staring at the window down the room from her, maybe able to sense the light and not much else, not shifting as they left without looking back.

 

* * *

 

 

“You’d have to spot me the day she can’t remember me, huh?” He spoke around his can of energy drink, having stopped at a vending machine on the way out, enquiring if Tio was thirsty and accepting the shake of his head easily even if it was a lie.

“Mm, sorry. Are you okay?”

His sigh was worryingly shaky and when he looked up Tio could still see pain in his expression as he nodded, waving a hand as if to say it was no big deal, “yeah, I’m fine. It happens sometimes, she thinks I’m my father pretty often. They changed her medication last week, it messed her up a bit. Anyway, it’s not important, did she give you something?”

He’d nodded at his hand then, where the small circle of cellophane still sat, remembering only then and opening his fingers carefully so he could see, finally reading what must have been the top of a pot. “Yeah, some wrapper thing. Oh, chocolate pudding apparently.”

“Hm, that means she likes you. When she meets somebody she likes, she always gives them something, usually just a wrapper. But chocolate, huh? That means she really likes you, she almost never gives those away, she keeps them stashed in that bag of hers.”

It made him momentarily sad to hear Kin talking about such bizarre behaviour as if it was normal, but something in him didn’t want to apologise then, removing his wallet and carefully tucking the wrapper into it instead. “I’ll look after it then.”

 

“So,” they’d ended up walking back together, they both had a shift that night after all and with barely an hour until it started it made sense to have a leisurely journey there and chill until they had to work. “Now you know something about me that nobody else does.”

That was heavy, and words were escaping him too fast to realise how dumb they were, how minuscule and pointless in comparison, “once I was so drunk I knew I’d never be able to get up and into my apartment in time to pee, so I stood outside my block, pissed myself, then went upstairs, got undressed and went to bed as if I wasn’t covered in urine.”

Kin’s steady pace faltered for a second and his voice was amused and confused in equal measure, laughing a little as he spoke and smiling now, losing the worn look of a second ago, “okay. You told me that story, why?”

“I don’t really have any big secrets to tell, most people know everything about me. That’s the worst it gets. Oh, except once I was really ill and shit myself.”

“Well it doesn’t count if you were ill,” he didn’t mention that he didn’t need to respond to his big secret with one of his own, but he supposed he appreciated that he’d tried, that he’d felt bad for never really sharing. Plus it was hilarious that both his stories involved badly timed bodily functions, toilet humour having not been something he’d anticipated Tio would find amusing. “Good blackmail material though, thanks.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Sure about that?” He deserved the jab he got in the side for that, but even as it knocked the wind out of him he laughed. After all, there was no use crying over boiled frogs, whatever the fuck that had meant.

 

* * *

 

Mizuki had taken a detour after the hospital and he wasn’t quite sure why, after almost two hours of speaking to people stuck in hospital beds, and endless words of thanks and admiration, he felt too exhausted to do anything but walk around aimlessly. He ended up near Noiz’s building and was half tempted to go thank him for his help, but he knew he wasn’t the type to need thanks and he’d paid him what he’d asked already.

He paused to light a cigarette and glance around, aware he only vaguely knew where he was and turning to see a small street child frozen in front of him, looking panicked and tatty where he lingered in front of a pleasant looking bakery.

“I ain’t stealin’!” Mizuki paused then, raising his hands up as if to say he meant no harm, the kid just clutching the slightly burnt loaf of bread closer to his chest as if fearing it would be torn away, bartender realising then that he was barefoot and breath softening on its way out.

“You can’t read the sign?” He nodded over to it, attached to the chair the bread had been sitting on, in a plastic tray with another few with issues, ones that hadn’t quite risen properly or were too brown, a couple were funny shapes. The boy’s eyes darted to it for the tiniest fragment of a second before his distrusting gaze was back on Mizuki again, shaking his head fast and dirty hair whipping about, too long and trailing lankly down to his jaw. “Do you wanna know what it says?”

“Alright.”

“It says ‘free to those who need it.’” He’d only noticed the sign after he’d registered that no child would be stupid enough to steal inside a shop then hover outside it, eyes finding the tray of bread his load was presumably from and wanting to laugh at how unnecessary the child’s defence had been.

“What’s that mean?”

He felt suddenly very sad, shoulders falling a little and wondering why this child was here, why he wasn’t in a home being fed by a loving family, why he was wearing dirty clothes that didn’t fit and why his eyes were so large in his sunken face. His voice was so much softer when he spoke and his chest ached, “it means whoever owns this bakery wants you to have it.”

“Why?”

“They can’t sell it.” He’d wanted to say it was because they were kind, because a lot of businesses must have things they couldn’t sell, but surely they must just be thrown away, but whoever owned this place had a kind soul and Mizuki liked them already.

“Oh. So I _ain’t_ stealing?”

“No.”

He looked baffled for a moment, having denied he was stealing only to discover he actually wasn’t, smiling so sunnily between missing front teeth that for a second he could have been any other kid, so cute and carefree for that split second where he was happy. “Alright, thanks mister!”

“Sure,” Mizuki just watched him run off, bread tucked under his arm and feeling his throat grow rather thick as his eyes traced his footsteps, seeing how dirty the soles of his feet were as he legged it to somewhere he could safely eat his spoils. Ironic, that he’d stayed out so he wouldn’t have to think about painful things only for them to find him anyway, leaning against a wall heavily to finish his cigarette because for some stupid reason that kid had made him want to cry.

 

But he was never left alone for long and the tinkling of a bell was rapidly followed by the sound of his name, glancing up and aware he looked significantly troubled even as Yuu’s chirpy face met his gaze. “Mizuki? Hey, I thought it was you.”

“Oh, this is your mother’s bakery, I knew the name sounded familiar.”

“Mm,” he ignored the stilted, sad tone to his voice, stepping outside in an apron smeared with flour, standing beside him and not questioning how drawn and tired he seemed, sensitive enough to know to leave it well alone. “You talking to that kid?”

“Yeah, he thought I was gunna bust him for stealing.”

“He took some bread then?” Mizuki nodded and both their eyes turned to the tray where the bartender now noticed there were gaps, presuming it had been full to begin with, “that’s good. We might have to start putting out more, it’s always gone within a couple hours.”

“Your idea or your mothers?”

“Mum’s, some kid came in couple weeks back begging for food, it really upset her.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal but Mizuki knew he’d tamped down his usual enthusiasm to not overwhelm him, appreciating it as he was almost calm and reassuring. “So she puts out the loaves we can’t sell or have gone stale and they can just take them.”

“It’s a nice idea.”

“Yeah, she likes to try and help.”

“Does it always get taken? The bread?”

“Oh yeah, most days we put out a couple of pallets and they always go really fast. Sometimes we get people taking them who we don’t think need to, but we can’t do much about that, most people think it’s a nice idea. We’ve got a tub inside for people to put change in to pay towards more to put out, or sometimes people just buy an extra to put outside. In fact, the other day some little old lady came in and bought twelve cream cakes to put there, really made some kids days.” He was beaming then and even Mizuki had to smile, the kindness of others making the darkness of his day seem a little brighter, his own problems fading into insignificance because at least he could eat without relying on the kindness of people like Yuu and his mother.

“The, the kid that came in begging, what did you do?”

“Hm,” his exhale was a laugh and he was grinning that happy go lucky smile he always had, a softness in his eyes to go along with his enthusiasm. “She made him a sandwich to eat in the shop and a mug of soup, told me to watch him, then she came back with a whole _bag_ of stuff for him.”

“She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“Sure is. You can come in and meet her, if you want?”

He didn’t really think it through, just nodding because he had nothing better to do, stubbing out his cigarette and shrugging, “yeah, alright.”

So he spent the rest of his afternoon with Yuu and his mother, learning more about a team member who he’d never been all that close with, finding that aside from being the most positive person he knew, he was very hardworking too, and remarkably good with numbers and calculations, being the one in charge of the stock and counting their profits.

He left, several hours later, stuffed with pastries that had been forced upon him and washed down with sweet tea, with a smile on his face and the reassuring knowledge that even on dark days like these, when terrible things had been happening, that good people still existed and the idea to try and become a little more like one of them.

 

* * *

 

  
This was a terrible idea and he knew it, either he’d end up spilling Kin’s deepest secret to Mizuki, or Kin would find out he’d pitied him enough to grovel to their boss. But he wasn’t doing this out of pity and he had the feeling that if it worked it would take a load off Kin’s shoulders, noticing he’d been put down on the rota to work almost every night for the next two weeks. That, combined with the growing bags under his eyes and the copious amounts of energy drinks he consumed made him certain he was doing the right thing, waiting for a couple of weeks before he approached Mizuki and hoping for the best.

 

“Mizuki, this is going to be the cheekiest thing, but do you think you could do me a favour?”

He didn’t even hesitate, because this was an area where he’d been a let-down in the past, shrugging as if it was no big deal because he knew a favour for a friend _shouldn’t_ be a big deal. “Sure, depends what it is though.”

“It’s um, well it’s less a one-time thing and more a… permanent thing.”

He paused to consider this, frowning minutely and wondering what on earth kind of favour was permanent, lowering his pencil and figuring this sketch could wait a little longer, rather glad of it if anything because it wasn’t the most original design and flowers got dull after a while. “Well now you’ve made me curious, do tell.”

“Could you possibly, give Kin a raise.”

“A raise? As in, pay him more wages?”

“Basically.”

“Right. Um, don’t get me wrong, I love paying people more money for no reason. But what is the reason? You wouldn’t normally ask for something like this.”

“I know. But there is a reason, a really good one. But I kinda can’t tell you that.”

“Okay, so you’re expecting me to blindly shell out more cash because, and I quote, you want me to?” His tone was a little too insistent and he mentally told himself to calm down, because he definitely wouldn’t do this unless he was serious about it and really wanted, or needed it to happen. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to pay him extra.

“Basically. But come on, Mizuki, it’s not for no reason, he’s probably the best bartender you’ve got. Except me, obviously.”

“Modest.”

“Very. But seriously, he covers any shift you ask, he did every single night last week without a single complaint, he’s always on time, he works really hard, he offers to stay and clean up. He at least deserves a little teeny one.”

He sighed through his nose then, long and contemplative, regarding Tio with some curiosity, because it wasn’t like him to almost beg for something like this and he knew that if anything he’d be asking for a pay rise himself, he was a little overdue one if he was honest. He also knew that he and Kin had fallen out recently, so it was unlikely he was asking for it solely because they were friends, “there’s a decent reason?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s, what, struggling for money?” That was what seemed logical, but then he suddenly remembered another point and Kin being low on money rapidly made no sense again, frowning as he remembered seeing him arrive at work in an unfamiliar apron. “Doesn’t he have another job?”

“Er, yeah, he waits tables at a café. But he has to pay for something… Something expensive, something he can’t not pay.” It was remarkably hard to express how much he _had_ to pay for his mother’s treatment without making it obvious what he was talking about, Mizuki’s eyes narrowed a little suspiciously but seeing to appreciate that it wasn’t his business to know.

“So, personal reasons, say?” Tio just nodded, shrugging one shoulder and looking guilty for asking, Mizuki pausing to consider it again, reasoning that Kin was an exceptionally good worker so he could easily give him a pay rise for purely genuine reasons, plus the concern Tio obviously felt for his situation made him figure it must be pretty bad. “I’ll think about it, alright? I assume if I did you wouldn’t want him to know you asked me?”

“No, you can’t tell him. Just, make it seem like a real thing, if you do.”

“Okay. Now you need to do me a favour, empty the till, count it, bag it up,” it was Tio’s least favourite activity, much preferring when people paid electronically and there was no awkward messing around with coins he always dropped or lost count of halfway through a huge stack. But he’d asked Mizuki something very rude so he could hardly complain, just nodding reluctantly and the bartender grinning at him as he knew exactly what he’d done, heading back to his sketch of roses ‘because my boyfriend always buys me them’, and listening to the gentle clink of coins that began moments later, already visualising his budget in his head.

 

* * *

 

 

He deliberately put it off for a month, noticing himself how run down Kin seemed to be and even having to send him home early one night as he seemed so tired he was unable to function properly, looking significantly bothered until Mizuki told him he’d still be paid and he relaxed a little. He had absolutely no idea what was going on, but he’d always considered himself to be a good boss, or a considerate one if nothing else, and if Kin had something serious going on at home he should be understanding even though nobody was willing to tell him.

His employees private lives were exactly that, they remained none of his business until they began effecting the way his bar ran, only then would he step in to enquire if things were okay or if there was anything to do to help. If all Kin needed was a little extra cash then he’d be more than willing to help. He couldn’t deny that he owed Tio several favours already.

 

“Ah, Kin, just the man I’ve been wanting to see,” he pretended he hadn’t felt him jump as he placed an arm on his shoulder, tall form jerking as he was torn away from the rota he was examining, looking utterly shattered and more than a little out of it. He figured then there was no time to waste, having noticed a couple of shifts ago that the only pair of trainers he ever wore were full of holes and knowing he had to be doing badly financially to not be able to get a new pair. “How would you like a promotion?”

He blinked then, in a fairly confused manner, as if he didn’t quite understand the words, only managing to look confused as he stammered, “A- A promotion? I mean, I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve one.”

“You’ve done plenty, believe me. But I’ve been needing an assistant cocktail mixer for a while now, so, think you can do it?”

“I- Yeah, I’m sure I could.”

“Alright. You’re probably want to know if it’s more cash too, no need to be shy,” he smiled at him warmly and he just about managed a shell shocked twitch of his mouth back, news having not sunk in yet and too baffled to be grateful or anything else. “So it’s an extra night a week and a shift around of your hours, you just tell me what you can do and I’ll write up a new rota. You’ll get a bonus of course, and a wage increase too, I haven’t quite worked out how much but I’ll let you know. You’d be working with Tio during cocktail night, doing the routine and all that, you get to keep all your tips and with how well you two get on I know you’ll be very popular. So, you want it?”

“I- Yeah, I mean, that sounds amazing. Thank you.” It had finally sunk in and he looked alive again, managing to smile even if it was a little reluctant, as if he didn’t quite believe it, running a hand through his hair and almost laughing in disbelief.

“Sure thing, hard work gets rewarded here and you’ve been working exceptionally hard lately. So just write on the rota what nights you can do and I’ll get you scheduled in for some paid training with Tio next week.” He was about to continue, to really stress how pleased he was with him, to maybe give him a bit of encouragement, but then Kin checked his watch, announced with mild alarm that he had a shift to get to, thanked him again and left even as Mizuki reassured him that really, it was no big deal.

 

* * *

 

  
“Did you have something to do with this?”

“With… what?” It was rather an odd thing to be assaulted with as he entered the bar, having been told he was training somebody up but knowing little else, not who it was or what he was training them in, pausing as the rather accusatory tone reached him.

“Mizuki promoted me to assistant cocktail maker.”

“He did? Whoa, Kin that’s awesome!” His enthusiasm wasn’t faked, because he had barely been expecting Mizuki to do it, let alone to give him a promotion as well as the pay rise he assumed would come with it, beaming with delight at how pleased he seemed when he realised, albeit falsely, that Tio hadn’t encouraged their boss in this.

“So you’ll be doing cocktail nights with me?”

“Guess so, God, and I already have to see your ugly face all the time.”

“Oh Kin, you flatter me,” he kept his voice toneless and dull, as flat as the unimpressed expression on his face, just rolling his eyes when he was promptly ignored, returning to a pleased smile at how relieved he looked, knowing he’d done the right thing even if it had been a little intrusive.

“I try. But, the job came with a nice bonus,” Tio’s expression had definitely softened too much then, so incredibly grateful to Mizuki that he felt all mushy and gross, pushing that away as Kin continued and knowing he had to get back to normality so as not to let his secret involvement slip. “So I was thinking… I might get you to pierce something else for me.”

“Oh yeah? I’m not sure I like the sound of that. If this is an excuse to make me touch your dick I won’t be impressed.”

“I- No, god no, believe me, it’s fine as it is,” he ignored Tio’s light hearted mumble that that was too much information and probably a lie, grinning as he continued. “But I don’t know what, I mean we both know my face is perfect already, so maybe like the back of my neck or something?”

“Hm, I guess, what about your nipples?” He hadn’t really thought that through and he realised only as Kin raised an eyebrow just how damn awkward that would be, supposing if he decided he wanted it he’d have no choice.

“Excuse me? And here I thought you didn’t want to feel me up.”

“Nah, I just want to stab needles through you. Besides, surface piercings like the neck reject, it’d last two weeks to six months, it’s kinda a waste of money. Anyway, I’ll give you one for free, a celebration of your promotion.”

“Oh, you’ll give me one, will you?” Tio just rolled his eyes, having known he’d take that the wrong way and unable to be anything but distantly amused at how predictable he was.

“You’re meant to be getting trained, Kin, not flirting.” Mizuki had wandered in behind them, new recruit following behind him and offering a cheery wave as he didn’t even bother looking around, having been a regular for so long he was basically a member already, just going through the motions to make it seem more official, seemingly on the way to get his tattoo.

“With this loser? Never.”

“Oh fuck off, Treebeard.”

“What?”

“It’s a lord of the rings reference,” Kin just shook his head, looking baffled as Mizuki snorted in amusement at the both offended and horrified expression on Tio’s face, leading Kaoru into the back while they bickered, flirted, whatever they were calling it. “It’s a series of books.”

“Do I look like I read?”

“Now you mention it, you don’t look like you do anything with your brain.” Kin didn’t even have time to be offended by that because Tio was continuing anyway, so incredibly offended that he hadn’t even heard of them that he spoke rather too fast. “But anyway, no, it’s a really famous series of books. Well, I haven’t read them, but the movies are really good _how have you not seen them_?”

“I dunno, I had other things to do.”

“Okay, when are you next free for twenty four hours?”

“I don’t like the sound of this.”

“Come on, we can watch them all, there’s three films, and we’re gunna watch the extended ones, obviously, it’s pointless watching the normal version, you’ll miss all the good bits.”

“You’re so cute when you talk about things you like.” There was no real feeling behind this, just spoken to annoy him even though they both knew he thought it was true, Tio just half-heartedly flipping him off then continuing.

“Oh get bent, okay, so it’s like… four hours per film I think? So that’s twelve hours, we’d need breaks for snacks and stuff, so call it like fourteen hours. You up for it? Epic movie marathon.”

“They’re four hours long, each?” He looked significantly horrified and that dimmed only a little when Tio shrugged, having never really seen it as that big a deal when they were so good.

“Roughly.”

“They better be good.” That was as close to an agreement as he’d get and he was excited already, trying to pretend he wasn’t even as he almost bounced over to the cocktail preparation stuff Mizuki had laid out for them. He really hoped Kin would like them, because he’d once spent a really long time talking Mizuki into watching them, hoping he would like them too so one day they could marathon them. But he hadn’t been a fan and he’d let that dream die along with so many others, feeling weird affection build in his chest even as Kin eyed his clear exhilaration with amusement. “Nerd.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Designs, updates, ficart and other things of interest- [here](http://minky-way.tumblr.com/tagged/intravenous-series)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist @ [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/minky-way/03-infected)

There were three options now, number one was to yell at his face, number two was to tell him to fuck off, and number three was to pretend nothing had happened and to just allow whatever would happen, to happen. He opted for number three solely because he was tired and he really couldn’t deal with another assault on his character today.

So he opened the door and let him walk in, gestured vaguely towards the pizza on the coffee table and was surprised when he didn’t steal any, muttering something about having already eaten and Mizuki only recognising the scent of baking on him when he sat beside him. He enquired about mixer in the same moment he pulled both Ren and a bottle of rum out of his bag, dumping one on the coffee table and gently placing the other on the couch beside him, difference in softness of movement speaking louder than he ever would.

So he just nodded silently and headed off to get some coke from the kitchen, returning with one glass and Sly frowning at him silently, as if asking what the fuck he thought he was doing even as he announced he’d quit drinking except for on special occasions.

He was remarkably surprised when Sly didn’t respond, just rolled his eyes and muttered something he couldn’t hear, pouring himself a drink anyway and then turning to regard the bartender’s bedroom door with a frown.

“Has there been a zombie outbreak I’m not aware of, or do we have a guest?”

“Huh?”

He just rolled his eyes loudly, sighing as if exasperated but more curious than that, “something’s scratching at your fucking door.”

“Oh, yeah, I got a cat,” he looked so infinitely pleased with the information that for a second Sly almost didn’t hear him, but then he did and frowned because what the fuck was going on with the bartender?

“You got a cat?”

“Mm-hm,” he smiled, obviously not registering Sly’s utterly unimpressed look, just standing and opening the door to the bedroom, having slammed shut from the breeze the open windows caused, accidentally trapping his new pet in there. It darted out so fast Sly almost cringed, sudden lump of ginger fur at his side, pawing into his thigh and being utterly too familiar with him, bartender just laughing as he squirmed away from it.

“What the fuck is it doing?” ‘It’, was currently turning round in a circle by his thigh, settling herself next to him and sniffing with only mild caution at his scent, no doubt recognising it anyway given the frequency of his visits.

“She wants you to pet her.”

“She? Jesus Christ, I don’t want to fucking pet her!” He actually sounded horrified at the mere idea, and somehow the fact that Mizuki not only had a cat, but also a female cat, made the whole situation both worse and funnier, watching him be so cautious of the tamest animal he’d ever met.

“She’s nice, and her names Amaya, by the way,” he knew Sly didn’t give a shit, but he’d chosen her name deliberately and nobody else had met her yet so he’d had nobody to tell. “Go on, just try and stroke her, she’s a total attention whore.”

“Guess we might have something in common then,” he reached his hand out tentatively, looking more nervous than he did disgusted, despite his pretence Mizuki knew he liked animals, or Ren anyway, and he basically counted. But he was a little too abrupt, too rough, almost whacking her head and she hissed suddenly, yowling as he drew back too fast, alarmed, only making her jumpy, scratching at his hand but not quite drawing blood. “Fuck! I thought you said she was nice?”

“She is, you have to be gentle.”

“I don’t _do_ gentle.”

“Yeah, I know,” and something in that sentence made him sad for more than just his cat, who was already purring and rubbing against Sly’s leg, nuzzling her whiskers into his palm when he held it out again, seeming a little pleased when she didn’t attack this time.

“So, let me get this straight, you’ve basically quit drinking, and bought a cat,” he wasn’t looking at him as he spoke, forehead the tiniest bit furrowed as he focused on running his hand softly down the warm flank of the feline whose eyes were half closed in satisfaction. It was remarkably endearing to watch and he almost forgot to respond.

“Yes.”

“Jesus, bit young for a midlife crisis aren’t you? Let me guess, you’re quitting smoking too?”

“Well actually,” he just pulled his e-cigarette out of his pocket then and Sly’s expression was so hilarious he wished he could have snapped a picture of it to keep, mouth hanging open in both horror and disbelief and forehead lightly furrowed. To be honest, he looked a bit like a moron, just staring at him blankly, hand not even moving on Amaya’s side now but the cat perfectly happy under his palm anyway, purring like the low grumble of a motorbike.

“Oh my fucking God, you are _not_ serious?”

“Yep, deadly.”

“You’ve got an e-cigarette you _absolute fucking puff_. You are no fun anymore.”

But despite his words, he stayed, drinking and smoking alone, although after some whining Mizuki conceded to only smoke in Sly’s presence and to quit the rest of the time, cold turkey wasn’t really his thing after all.

 

* * *

 

 

“Where’s your cat gone?” Immediately in the front door that was what he asked, almost as if he’d wanted to see her again, though the bartender was not quite dumb enough to voice that idea.

“Out, exploring I guess, she’ll be back for food later,” he explained calmly and for some odd reason that struck Sly wrong, imagining Amaya torn apart by dogs or having her tail pulled by asshole kids. It was utterly illogical that he was more concerned for Mizuki’s pet than he was.

His nose wrinkled as he sat down and Mizuki just regarded him absently as he smelled the air around him rather like a dog, Ren vaguely shifting on his owners lap as if he wanted to try too, yipping in alarm as Sly jerked away in disgust.

“You smell weird.” He looked so offended that Mizuki almost couldn’t be, just blinking at him blankly and then glancing down at himself as if expecting to see some kind of filth matted into his shirt.

“Oh, wow, really a master of seduction, aren’t you?”

“You stink of hospital.”

“How do you know what the hospital smells like?” Sly didn’t respond, but he moved back abruptly, displeased scowl sagging and lips parting nervously, as if some great secret of his had been revealed, Mizuki just staring as he shrugged and a false smile made its way to his lips.

“I’m guessing.”

“Sure you are.” He was going to leave it there, he _was,_ but then he remembered what he’d heard Ken saying a couple of days back, lowering his tone so it was softer in the exact way he knew Sly hated. “Did something happen, you’ve been kinda… Weird lately?”

“Weird how?”

“You’re avoiding the question. I’ve heard rumours you’ve been at the hospital, did something happen to your Granny?”

“How the _fuck_ do you know about her?” He was suddenly livid and Mizuki wondered if maybe she was the one thing he refused to have used against him, eyes sparkling with danger as if daring him to say a single word against her. Mizuki just raised his hands to defend himself because it was Sly who’d informed him of her existence, or at least said she’d existed once, but to him it didn’t sound much like she was dead.

“You yelled it at me a few weeks back.”

He stuttered for a second then, because he suddenly realised they were talking about the argument, the one where Sly had let too much slip and apparently informed him not only of his absent parents but also of his quasi-present Granny. He debated not answering then, or of lying and saying she was dead but that was a heavy claim to make and the word had been lingering in his mind for weeks already without him associating it to somebody he didn’t need to quite yet. “She’s fine, the old cow’ll never croak, she needs to stay around and judge me.”

“So why were you at the hospital? One of my guys is dating the receptionist, says she’s seen you twice.”

“None of your fucking business. You really need to know that to fuck me?” There’d been no mention of fucking thus far, though Sly had just arrived and demanded to know where his cat was so he could be leading up to it, but his argument made little sense. But ignoring things was their forte, so Mizuki did what he knew best and shrugged.

“No, but usually you tell your friends shit like that.”

“We’re barely friends as it is. But fine, I was visiting an acquaintance of mine, that good enough?”

“I suppose.” But it wasn’t and they both knew it.

 

* * *

 

 

He was getting soft again and he knew it, but there was a deep seated terror in his chest that got worse every time his coil chimed even if he knew it was usually just some dumb notification about how much internet he was using. It would ping from his wrist and dread would travel up him so fast his fingers grew stiff and cold as he reached for it, breathing shallow and sensing the ground open up beneath him. But then he’d read the message and he’d exhale so deeply he’d get light headed and stagger into whatever wall he was nearest to, seeming to actually deflate and lose the use of his legs for a second.

Every time he went to sleep he had this sudden crushing, horrible feeling that tonight was the night where everything would go wrong, where he’d be forced to see what he’d done, to live with his mistakes even as somebody else didn’t. His eyes would snap open and he’d suck in a sharp breath, falling sensation dropping off abruptly like he’d smashed into the ground below, lying back down with twitching limbs and afraid to shut his eyes again.

He knew it had been a bad idea to visit, had wanted to remember him as he’d always been, but he’d felt strangely like he couldn’t leave things the way they were, he needed closure and he didn’t have much time to get it now.

It was ironic, that the day after he visited he fell into a coma, as if he’d been waiting for him, knowing he’d show up and wanting to let things be settled between them even if he never had been the sort to hold a grudge. So he’d smiled that warm smile that made Sly’s insides wither, and had reached for his hand and been allowed to hold it, to lazily run a tired thumb over torn flesh, had spoken to him in quiet, breathy sentences.

He’d told him he looked well, asked if something had happened in that hopeful voice of his, the one that always made guilt grow heavy and acidic in his throat, and he’d just shrugged him off, not wanting to answer but those gleaming eyes imploring him to.

“Yeah, I um, made a friend.”

“You did?”

“Mm, a couple, actually.”

“Oh, that’s good,” he had the warmest smile, he always had, so fond and affectionate, it made Sly’s chest ache even as he craved it, gripping his fingers a little tighter as he continued breathlessly. “That’s really good, Aoba. Do you like them?”

“Yeah. Guess I do.”

He’d opened his mouth to speak again but all that came out was a rattle. Then he started coughing.

The terror was back and he was calling for a nurse and pressing the button and standing up abruptly on stiff legs and not knowing what to do. Then he was ushered out by a nurse who looked like she hated him, who stared at him like this was entirely his fault, shutting the door almost in his face and not bothering to tell him anything more, just saying that perhaps he should leave in a tone that implied he had no choice.

 

* * *

 

 

‘If you’re wondering where your cat is, she followed me home’ He hadn’t even noticed that was true until he’d heard more meows than was normal for his stalk home from the hospital, turning round to see the familiar ginger feline and frowning even as he allowed her into his warehouse where she lay down quite comfortably.

‘Oh okay, I thought she’d just gone out. How does Ren feel about this?’

The message took a little longer to come through and when it did there was a photograph attached, two in fact, one of Amaya sniffing Ren tentatively when they’d first met, then another of them both asleep, one robotic, one real, curled up together on his pillow.

‘He likes her, traitor’

Mizuki replied with something, probably a dumb remark that it was cute, and Sly just _knew_ he would have saved the photographs to coo over, wondering if he’d somehow sent his cat to keep an eye on him, waving that away as exhausted delusions as he decided to head to bed himself. Waking up Ren so he’d vacate his pillow was easy, he just rubbed his head and he shifted to the side, the cat however, was an asshole just like its owner, and wouldn’t budge until Ren nudged at her and she disapprovingly stood.

He’d thought that maybe she’d leave now, but instead when Sly blew out his candle for the night, he felt not one, but two fuzzy forms cuddle into him, Ren curled into his neck the way he always was and Amaya a new addition under his arm. She was warm in the way Ren would never be and Sly cuddled closer to her instinctively, warmth seeping into his chest and softness of her fur a lovely contrast to his worn sleeping bag.

 

* * *

 

‘Your cat fucked off.’

‘I know, she’s right here.’ Sly snorted at the picture that came through, the rather spoilt cat standing on Mizuki’s shoulders as if that was a safe perch, tail wrapped halfway across his face and concealing one of his eyes. It was cute. Or at least he thought that for a second before the realisation that _ew_ , that wasn’t an acceptable thought filled him, and he filed it away as evidence of Mizuki’s increasingly obvious midlife crisis.

 

He didn’t have much time to think of Ayako or her owner though, he’d promised to see his Granny today, she’d messaged him the day before and his insides had frozen then thawed in the second he opened it and realised all was okay. He was half tempted to yell at her for scaring him like that the instant he saw her, but he wouldn’t admit fear and she looked so old and tired when she opened the door that he just threw his cigarette away and stepped inside silently.

They sat down at the dining table together and there was a pot of tea there already, still warm, a sign he’d not been as late as normal, her initial statement making him choke on the softly floral water.

“Will you come to the funeral?”

“He’s not dead yet.” She didn’t respond and he could feel the fear in his chest morph into anger and this was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to happen, holding the handle of the stupid teacup too hard and knowing how easily he could snap it off, noting the use of her least favourite china. “Don’t plan a funeral for someone who isn’t dead.”

“Aoba, he’s-“

“No! You told me _weeks_ ago, that he only had two weeks left but he’s still here! He could live for months yet, don’t you dare try to bury him before he’s even gone!”

She didn’t even react to his yelling, to the panic, the sudden obvious wave of lack of acceptance that had covered him, the denial that made his eyes burn even as he refused to be sad about this before he had to be. She just sighed and apologised in the only way she could, not bothering to try and comfort him with her words, she just laid out the facts and they cut through him like daggers. “That’s not what I’m trying to do. He’s getting worse every day, Aoba. He’s been having fits and they’ve had to drain his chest twice, last time they barely saved him. His heart is giving out, and his lungs.”

Ironic, that somebody with such a big heart would die because of exactly that, sinking back into his seat and letting his anger seep out into the tea, seeming cloudier now with emptied rage even as she continued and he didn’t have the guts to let it return.

“It’s inevitable. You need to accept it.”

“Yeah well, you might have done that but I can’t,” he didn’t understand how she could, because he wasn’t stupid enough to believe there could be some miracle recovery, he knew he would die sooner or later, he accepted that, but it didn’t mean he was okay with it. It was painful to discuss it like it was no big deal, like it was just procedure to plan the funeral instead of something that should shred her to pieces the way it did Sly. He took another mouthful of tea, barely warm but tasting so much of home, of the past, that it made him feel a little scared, swallowing fast and answering calmly. “No, I won’t go to any funeral, would you even want me to?”

“He would.”

“Like fuck he would, he’d want to be alive and well, not lying in some fucking box.” He didn’t mention that she’d avoided the question, there was no point because there’d been no point in her asking in the first place. How could he go to a funeral with people who knew his Granny? How could he identify himself as her Grandson, as a relative of the one who lay dead, as a mourner when people would see him and immediately think he was there to cause trouble and mock their loss. “I’m leaving. Let me know. If it happens.”

Her lips parted to say _when,_ but even she wasn’t so cruel and she directed her sad nod towards the leaves left in her cup.

 

* * *

 

 

From one disaster into another, the stench of the hospital to the elderly scent of ‘home’ and now into the reek of uncertainty that surrounded the apartment he arrived at neatly, knocking on the door a bit impatiently and standing there too long in silence when the door was answered. It was odd, because it wasn’t like he didn’t have words to say, he just didn’t want to be the one that spoke them, he’d rather keep everything a secret until he had to spill over like an overflowing sink. His gaze didn’t even move from smooth wood to the t-shirted chest of the bartender he was here to see, blinking absently and only realising how fucking weird he was being when the voice spoke and it was so different to the others he’d heard today.

“What’s wrong?” He hadn’t used his name and his tone wasn’t careful, he knew something was wrong, he’d known for a while now that something had changed, almost as big as the Scratch incident but he knew if it was that he’d have heard the rumours by now.

“Nothing! Why does something always have to be wrong?”

“It doesn’t, you just look like something is bothering-“

He interrupted, no time for Mizuki to finish that thought because something was bothering him, that wasn’t even a strong enough way to say it, it was all encompassing and suffocating him even as he pushed it out with words from the past. “You said I’m not a bad person.”

“You’re not, you just do bad things.” He didn’t even miss a beat and Sly _hated_ it because lies took a second to formulate but the truth was always easier to speak and he hated the truth because there was no escaping it, no argument would ever win against it.

“That’s the same thing.”

“It’s not.” He wasn’t even inside yet, still stood just outside the door and only realising when Mizuki’s back turned to him and he’d entered his home again, dressed like he’d been relaxing, comfortable and warm in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. It was homely and he felt weirdly left out as he stepped inside and ruined the image with his ugly words, his street clothes dirty and impractical, too outside all of this.

“Stop talking in fucking riddles! What the fuck do you mean? Why do you care if I’m a bad person or not? Why do you keep reminding me I’m not? Say what you fucking mean for once!”

“What I mean is that I love you.”

“Stop saying that.” His eyes were doing that aggravating blinking thing again, like they couldn’t stop fast enough, like they were trying to drive away something he refused to show, tone hard but fingers twitching lazily at his sides, wanting to shut him up though he didn’t quite know how.

“No, I love you, Sly, you yelling at me isn’t going to change that.”

“Then what will? Do I have to kill somebody? Myself? You? What do I have to do to make you fucking stop?” He wasn’t going to kill anybody, they both knew that, they might be the only people that did, but they did and Sly _hated_ it. Mizuki didn’t even fucking react, he just turned back to face him and frowned as if he hadn’t just poured more sickly sweet love into the air between them, regarding him quietly, how hunched into himself he seemed, how tired and worn down, and changed the subject.

“Sly, are you sure nothing happened? You were at the hospital again on-“

“Would you shut the fuck up about the fucking hospital?! It’s got nothing to fucking do with you, you fucking asshole! God, you’re such a piece of fucking shit would you just fucking leave it?” Like a volcano erupting but a hell of a lot messier, lava burning his skin even as he finished and knew it was more obvious than ever now that he was hiding things, keeping them concealed so deep inside even he forgot about them for peaceful seconds.

“That was a lot of swear words.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Okay, you don’t wanna talk about it. That’s cool. Relax, no more questions, alright?” His tone had done that horrible considerate thing again that made his chest hurt, suddenly fitting another face to his voice and almost wanting to laugh at the irony of it. “Ayako’s in my bedroom, if you’re interested.”

“Why would I give a _fuck_ where your cat is?” But his own words betrayed him as said cat appeared as if summoned, meowing softly as she padded her elegant way towards him, rubbing against his legs and worming between them affectionately. The bartender looking away was certainly too deliberate to not be on purpose, Sly feeling his face soften as he regarded her, because animals were one of the only groups that didn’t judge him, she liked him already and even as he knelt to scratch behind her ears he thought of how fucked up that was.

 

When the bartender turned back a good five minutes later, his ginger, attention-seeking whore of a cat was happily nestled in Sly’s arms, purring so loudly it was a little ridiculous and her pleased expression such a contrast to Sly’s weak scowl that he almost laughed. He held it in though and lit him a cigarette instead, offering it over and not being acknowledged, enquiring lazily whether he wanted a drink and receiving rather weak confirmation.

He didn’t drink as fast as always, he barely paid attention to his glass at all, more focused on staring into the distance and rubbing at Ayako’s back or ears, flopped over his lap and leaving ginger fluff everywhere. Mizuki was happy enough to let him just sit there, bustling around him quietly, clearing up glasses from the coffee table and folding up laundry he’d left sitting a little too long, joining him a good half an hour later.

“I have a proposition,” his eyes flickered to him but he did no more than raise an eyebrow in his direction, expecting him to speak and not reacting much when he did other than to look away again. “Stay with me for a little while.”

He debated questioning the meaning of this, opening his mouth to ask how long a while was, what staying meant, but he knew already so he just shut his mouth and licked his lips, watching olive eyes tracing the movement. “I get the feeling my little while is very different to yours.”

“Couple weeks, try it out. You might even like it.”

“Doubt it.”

“Trust me.”

He didn’t reply to that, just raised an eyebrow in disbelief, because he didn’t trust anybody, not even Mizuki who might deserve that small service, freezing as he reached for a cigarette and a hand covered his own instead. The urge to yank back was strong, so strong he almost did for a second, arm twitching violently but limb remaining in place, cold fingers warmed by tanned skin and just staring at their owner blankly.

“Trust me,” but now his voice, his gaze was hard and he wasn’t being given a choice.

That was the last thing he wanted to do, the last thing he ever did, but he paused to consider this, the offer, a roof over his head, hot food, warm showers, things to fill his time that wouldn’t hurt him in the long run. Bandages for his sliced up arms and maybe even something that would help untangle his messed up head, seeing a weird flicker of somebody else in the soft way he spoke and answering as if he was talking back to somebody almost long gone.

“I’ll try,” it came out as a whisper, low and cautious.

“So, will you?”

“I don’t know. I’ll get back to you.” He just huffed a laugh and lit his own cigarette, smoke mingling together in the air and silent but the soft purring of the only one in their party who was truly content with things.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Kou!” He looked up then, not realising until he lifted his head how sore his neck had gotten from staring intently at the ground, people occasionally passing by and paying him little attention, seeing a rather large pack of dogs first and mouth twitching into a smile he didn’t deserve to be feeling. Then he looked beyond and he wasn’t sure why he’d not recognised the voice, Jin waving cheerily as the dogs reached him, tails wagging in recognition and almost piling onto him, forcing him to raise hands to stroke and bat away long tongues, leashes released and them free to bother him how they thought was best. “What you thinking about?”

He didn’t answer for a minute, watching as he carefully shifted a smaller dog across the bench so he had room to join him, large, soft head dumping into his lap and staying there quite comfortably even as Kou almost drowned under fur.

“The team. Well, not really. Myself, I guess.”

“Hm, why’s that?”

“I-“ He paused then, because as nice as Jin was, and nobody could deny that, he still didn’t feel comfortable sharing this with him, frowning as he realised he recognised none of the dogs with him. “Are any of these dogs yours?”

“Nope! I walk them for people, old ladies and stuff mainly, or people with other things to do,” he answered so cheerily and with so much enthusiasm he felt momentarily better, like he could pretend there was nothing but this bench and the large Shiba Inu trying to be his lap dog. “In fact, you should help me, I’m walking them towards the shrine and back. Which ones you want?”

His mind was free for a blissful while, choosing the dogs he wanted to walk and untangling their leads, listening with great interest as Jin told him all about them, their names and personalities, which ones would try to run after birds and which ones peed everywhere. But they fell silent as they approached the old shrine and they were the only two people in sight, climbing the hill and the dogs well behaved as Kou finally began to talk.

He said how guilty he felt for leaving the team because he couldn’t support Koujaku’s decision, how he’d felt like a terrible member for not doing what his leader said, how scared he was that they might never recover properly. How afraid he was for Koujaku and how horrible it had been to see him break down like that, how he was worried he’d wake up and be mad at him for not saving him sooner, for leaving all of them to face their fate alone, for abandoning them.

Jin didn’t reply for a long moment, nodding along to show he’d heard and making the occasional noise of agreement, understanding, and Kou half thought he wouldn’t say anything. But he just adjusted his leashes into his right hand so he could put an arm around his shoulders and give him a half hug, words as pointless as anybody else’s but somehow infinitely more reassuring as he smiled over, “you’ll be alright.”

“Yeah, I think I will,” and a floppy eared spaniel barked as if in agreement.

 

* * *

 

 

“You look tired.” His voice was calm, glancing up over the tub of polish he was shaking into his cloth, clearly running out and trying to get the most out of it, smiling in mild humour as Mizuki realised he’d been addressed and looked up too late.

“Hm? Oh, I couldn’t sleep last night. I had… Something was on my mind.”

“Want to share?”

“I- I don’t know. Probably not,” he could share it easily, they’d both heard Ken’s gossip of course, that Sly had been at the hospital a lot lately, he could spill his worries to him, but his love interest wasn’t exactly their favourite topic and he’d rather go upstairs and be over with this day of working. “But um, I’ve kinda, been keeping a secret from you.”

“Another one?” His words could be sharp but they were spoken with a smile and a raised eyebrow, knowing there was nothing else he could have hidden that would have shocked him, just watching as Mizuki rolled his eyes and gestured for him to follow him upstairs. Ditching his rag and deciding that whatever this secret was, it was a lot more fun than polishing the beer taps, yawning as he entered the flat and aware of a weird, though not necessarily unpleasant smell.

“Tio, this is Amaya, Amaya, this is Tio.” He opened his eyes then, aware this was an introduction and wondering with significant alarm if Mizuki had a girlfriend or something equally bizarre and illogical, eyes meeting a lump of lazy orange fur and pausing. He just blinked in some confusion, regarding the contented looking cat he nestled in his arms, perfectly happy to be held and just nuzzling into his chin as he stroked across her side.

“That’s a cat.”

“Yes.”

“You got a cat?”

“I did.”

“When?”

“Just after New Year’s.”

“Hm. Amaya?” Mizuki nodded then and Tio held a hand out to be sniffed, deciding not to question exactly why he’d gotten a cat with seemingly no prior planning, supposing it could have been something weirder like a snake, he’d mentioned that before. “She’s cute.”

“Thanks. You want a drink?”

“Yeah, go on then,” Mizuki placed the cat down and she leapt nimbly onto the couch, regarding Tio with curious eyes as he sat down and she came padding over to judge him, pressing her cold nose into his hand and sniffing over it and up his wrist curiously. She deemed him acceptable though, stepping into his lap and feet going wherever the hell they wanted, almost standing on his dick as she settled herself and lay down, tail curled up around her back.

Mizuki returned with drinks and an affectionate scratch behind her ears, setting a bottle of beer down for Tio and a glass of what looked weirdly like orange juice for himself, sitting there in silence for a while just to fuss his cat because Tio was definitely a cat person and aside from strays he never got to spend much time with them.

But then he decided to break the silence with something rather ill-advised in his present company, “Kin’s really allergic to cats.”

“Okay, so were you planning on letting him rub his face on your clothes or…?” It was obvious that he was both baffled and amused by how strange that remark had been, how it had come from nowhere with no real reason to mention it.

“No, just making a comment,” he tried to pass it off casually but he was sure it hadn’t worked, changing the subject back to Amaya and her owner as fast as he could without seeming too keen to get the conversation off Kin. “Is she the latest attempt to get yourself sorted out?”

“How’d you mean?”

“You know, quitting drinking and smoking, then getting a cat, you’re getting your shit together,” he sounded a little impressed but Mizuki hadn’t even thought of it that way, the command to stop drinking had been overdue by the time he’d realised he needed to follow it, and quitting smoking had come hand in hand with that.

“Oh, I guess so, I just thought she’d be some company.”

“That makes you sound lonely.”

“Maybe I am,“ it was a little weird how exposing it felt to talk about this with Tio, because best friend or not, this was oddly personal and embarrassing too, Amaya rolling over to expose her belly and trapping Tio’s arm with her front legs. “Isn’t everyone lonely sometimes?”

“Hm, I guess so.”

 

* * *

 

 

He _could_ love Mizuki back. Surely he was capable of love, wasn’t everyone? If he thought about it hard enough he was sure he loved the boy who lay in hospital, he loved his Granny in a strange, distant way too, that was the only way to explain why he worried about her.

But how was he supposed to know? If he’d never experienced romantic love, and even the words made him feel ill, how was he supposed to know what it felt like? What if what he felt wasn’t love, but just friendship or even just lust? That would explain a lot more.

But lately he had been different. They both had been, and he wasn’t sure how to explain it anymore.

It had started off small.

_“Come on, it’s freezing out there, just stay the night.”_

_“I’ve got some leftovers, if you want them?”_

Even the aftermath of their sex was different, sure, they didn’t exactly cuddle or whisper sweet nothings now, but he didn’t immediately get dressed and leave. No, he lingered, but he was never entirely sure what for.

_“You’re all sweaty, you may as well have a shower while you’re here.”_

But the problem was, it all made sense, it was all a logical way to think. Yeah, he was hungry, and if there was food being offered to him, wasn’t the most sensible thing to do accept? It wasn’t a candlelit dinner for two, it was a coincidence. Probably.

If he was sweaty and cum-splattered after sex, didn’t it make sense to take a shower? He never could anywhere else, and despite what people seemed to think, he didn’t like being dirty. If his clothes were being washed and there were loaned sweatpants and hoodie outside the bathroom door when he was finished, that was just another way he got things from the bartender.

Well, that had only happened once and he had to admit it had freaked him out a little bit to discover Mizuki had taken it upon himself to wash his usual clothes, explaining when he began yelling at him that he could collect them the next time he came over. So he left wearing all clothing of the bartenders that was too big but a damn sight more warm or comfortable than his own, and the next week he got his own back and pretended not to be unnerved by the whole thing.

 

But things were getting too much, he was getting in too deep, losing sight of the sun through the surface of the water, sinking deeper away from what he knew, what he felt safe with, as close as he could get to safe anyway.

But no, he was still in control. He was still using the tattooist. When it was cold and he shivered too much to sleep, turning up at his apartment was a way of using him. Using his food, his shower, his bed. Even if they didn’t have sex, even if they just spent the evening together, eating and getting drunk and chatting shit before Sly left. That was just him using the bartender, taking advantage of his kindness and his feelings.

He didn’t love him. He couldn’t.

 

But he felt different, the atmosphere between them didn’t crackle with tension and anger and hidden things any more. No, it simmered, like a pan on a low boil, and sure, it could explode, but it wasn’t likely. More than often when he came around they didn’t even fuck. But that wasn’t the agreement. No, he was supposed to take Mizuki’s alcohol and cigarettes and fuck him in return, whenever and however he wanted. That was what they had, and it worked.

 

But he couldn’t get it out of his fucking head. It was there all the time and it made him want to tear his skin off.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were supposed to be fuck buddies, friends at the very most. Somebody to take advantage of to get what he needed in terms of alcohol and cigarettes and good sex. And fuck the sex was good. That was what kept him coming back, or that’s what he told himself anyway. His feelings about Mizuki were mixed, to say the least. On one hand he was a friend, or the closest thing to a friend Sly had anyway. He was funny and enjoyed listening to Sly’s often illegal exploits, not judging or sending him looks of disgust as he described knocking out some shitty kid with glee in his voice. Of course there were benefits other than pleasant company, the free alcohol and the offer of a place to crash was enough to keep Sly returning to Mizuki.

The sex, well that was just the cherry on top, when it happened and it was getting rarer these days. Mizuki had learned early on that Sly didn’t need to be treated like a precious doll, like he’d shatter if handled too roughly. Since Mizuki had gained that knowledge, their meetings had been far more enjoyable for both of them.

Feelings weren’t meant to have developed, on either side. He wasn’t meant to seek the bartender out to rant at when he’d had a shitty day. He wasn’t meant to be some kind of sick emotional support. Mizuki wasn’t supposed to fucking love him. Nobody was.

 

The first time he’d said it, ice rose in his lungs and he couldn’t speak, confusion and panic and no no no rising in his chest. Eyes narrowing and pretending he hadn’t heard it, lungs tight and mouth dry.

How could he stay after that? How was he meant to just stick around, pretending one of them hadn’t fucked up their deal monumentally with those three little words. They were like a knife in his back, they marked him out. He wasn’t meant to be loved by anyone, he was meant to be different but now he was exactly the same as anybody else.

He found himself staring. Yellow eyes darting from person to person, lingering on couples and mothers who held their child’s hand as they crossed a busy street. Watching the easy way hands interlinked, fingers weaving together like they belonged there. Wondered how it felt to be able to do that so easily. To understand what love was and to be able to reciprocate it, to not feel conflicted and torn and shredded up by it because it was wrong.

Was it as simple as breathing, to say those three words back? Didn’t it seem like you were ripping off a piece of your heart and giving it to them every time you said it? Giving away a piece of who you were, a piece of your safety. Didn’t they realise it was weak to divide yourself that way? Idiotic to place all of your trust in one person when they could so easily break you.

The idea of falling in love was scary, whether it crept up on you, or whether you literally fell, plummeting headfirst into confusing feelings and fears and so many doubts that you’d fear your head, or worse, your heart will explode. It was even more terrifying because he’d never experienced love before, in any form, when all he’d felt was hurt and cruel and pain.

How was he meant to understand it? To cope with the fact that staying away from Mizuki was somehow worse than years of isolation and torture, when that barely made sense to him, let alone someone else?

 

* * *

 

 

He’d been thinking about it too much, the whole ‘Mizuki loving him’, thing, it was all he could think about, even when his Granny messaged him saying there wasn’t long left now and invited him to the hospital. He just replied saying he couldn’t and thrown his coil away.

He knew, he knew that soon there’d be no more messages, that he’d never need to go to the hospital again, or at least not til the old lady croaked, and he wanted, bizarrely, to tell Mizuki about this, to just be able to admit to somebody what was happening when he couldn’t admit it to himself.

 

But he didn’t, instead he went round and yelled at him because that was what he did best and all he knew. He shouted when he wanted to sit quietly by his side and stroke his stupid fucking cat and talk about how it was his fault that somewhere in a hospital far away a monitor might start flat lining at any minute. He wanted Mizuki to smile and say with that obvious tone that it wasn’t his fault and that there was nothing he could have done to have prevented it, he didn’t want the blame in his Granny’s eyes or the blankness in his own.

 

It was Mizuki’s fault in the first place, he’d spoken too softly and Sly hadn’t liked it, hadn’t appreciated the affection in his tone, didn’t like the warmth of his eyes as he regarded Sly curled up with Amaya like he belonged there.

So he’d started yelling and it had been ten minutes and he had yet to stop.

“We had a great thing going on! We were fine the way we were and now you’ve fucked it up with your stupid _feeling_ s!”

“We were fine? For now maybe, but what would you do if I settled down?”

“I’d find someone else to fuck!”

“Who, Sly? Everyone else hates you!” His voice was hard and insistent, downright cruel, because did Sly not fucking realise his reputation on the island? How people would rather lose a limb than even touch him, let alone fuck him, why was he still so in denial about this? “I’m the only person who even talks to you!

“Then I’d do what I always used to!” He didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to, but it would be his only option. That or he could go back to Granny’s and hate himself, he guessed. Hated or not, there were plenty of people who’d be willing to pay him a few yen for a quick, no strings attached fuck.

“You don’t want to do that, I know you, Sly.”

“Yeah and I wish you fucking didn’t!”

“Do you? Do you really?” He was disbelieving, because Sly might be a piece of work but he wasn’t telling the truth right now and it was obvious in the way his yellow eyes wouldn’t meet Mizuki’s.

“Yes!”

“Why? Give me one good reason why!” They were yelling now, both of them, shouting into each other’s faces with spit flying and gestures angry, hands in fists and eyes hard, Amaya cowering unhappily in the corner and Ren turned off for fear he’d try to intervene.

“Because everything would be simpler if we’d never fucking met! Because it’s your fault everything has gone to shit and because it’s your fault I feel so fucking weird all the time!”

“Look, I know you don’t feel the same.”

“Really? You could’ve fucking fooled me.” He scowled, because Mizuki didn’t know anything about him, he didn’t know how he felt and he didn’t like being told to do anything, how to feel or act or talk, he did what he wanted. But damn, now he didn’t even know what he wanted, other than for Mizuki to stop fucking shouting, to stop this loving him bullshit he’d tricked himself into believing and to have just a second to fucking _breathe._

“Just shut the fuck up! For one fucking minute shut up!”

He froze, yellow eyes wide and genuinely shocked. Mizuki had never snapped like this before, never, sure they’d argued, but he’d never gotten angry like this, fists raised and a vein bulging in his forehead, seconds away from hitting him. He guessed the bartender had a side he didn’t know. It made him feel strangely lost.

“I get it! You’re looking out for yourself, being independent. Whatever, but can’t you at least _try_?”

“Try what?” His voice was cold, tone final and dismissive, as if he’d already disagreed with whatever the bartender was going to recommend.

“Try this. Us.” Mizuki’s words were earnest, but Sly was staring at the strip of skin where his t-shirt rode up. “I know you don’t like any of this stuff, romancey-bullshit, but can’t you just try?”

“What’s the point?”

There was a pause, a silence as Mizuki sighed loudly, looking off into the distance as if the blank wall would provide him with the answers he needed. “There isn’t one.” Sly opened his mouth to object but the tattooist spoke over him, “how do you know if you won’t try?”

And what could he say to that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Designs, updates, ficart and other things of interest- [here](http://minky-way.tumblr.com/tagged/intravenous-series)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist @ [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/minky-way/03-infected)

He’d been there for thirty seconds, maybe even less, he’d bypassed reception all together and ran as fast as he could to the ward he was on, he didn’t know why, maybe hoping the message had been wrong, maybe just hoping he’d get there before the final blow was struck. Maybe it was instinct.

He’d stopped at the end of the corridor, skidding around the corner with trainers shrieking across the polished floor, he saw the head shake, the apologetic hand movements and the firm, understanding nod of a pink-haired head in the second before she spotted him and spoke. Just his name, or his old name anyway, the one nobody else had ever called him except the one he now understood the fate of, feeling nothing, the urgency of before dying and anxiety rising hot in his limbs as the white coated man walked away to continue his day as if everything hadn’t just been destroyed.

She took one step forwards, then another, lips parted and watery blue eyes too wet, he stood his ground, breathing like he was facing off with some dangerous wild animal instead of his own Granny. But then she took one more step and he had to turn and flee because he knew without being told and he couldn’t stand the words coming from that wrinkled mouth.

 

He made his way out just as fast but there were two people coming towards him he recognised and there was nowhere to hide, holding his head up as if nothing was wrong and shoving right through the middle of them, refusing to look anywhere above their shoulders because that way lay danger. He just couldn’t stand to be there one second longer with that smell and the memories and the strange feeling that he was about to be crushed by halogen lit hallways and the feeble murmuring of people too far gone to be acknowledged. He just couldn’t do it and he had to run, knowing even as he’d purposefully ignored both blue and green eyes that nobody could look at him and not realise something was wrong. He’d always run when he was scared and now was no different.

 

He’d been there so many times, but now, this one time he didn’t want to see anybody or anybody to see him, this was the time he’d been caught red handed, metaphor too appropriate today and just swallowing as he shoved past another familiar face and out with lungs tearing open. He found the nearest rooftop there was, ripping fingers open scrambling up and finally away from prying eyes he lay back against the hard surface, stared at the sky and squeezed his eyes shut as if that would hide him from reality.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t want him to ask but then why had he gone there if not to be asked, to be questioned on this by somebody who might offer what he needed if he just told the goddamn truth for once, question registering and throat clogging. “What were you doing at the hospital?”

His voice was calm, curious but not prying and somehow he knew this time he’d be telling the truth but he had the feeling the words would choke him and he didn’t quite know how he’d end up reacting, answering as plainly as he could. Maybe for once plain facts wouldn’t hurt.

“Visiting.”

“Visiting who?”

There was a strange sense of dread filling up his chest and somehow the horrible warmth of it made him feel so suffocated, taking a breath and actually maintaining eye contact as he spoke, as he revealed long kept secrets about himself to the only person he even remotely trusted. “I had a brother. A twin.”

“Had?” He wished he hadn’t caught on, but he wasn’t dumb enough for that and he knew it wouldn’t be long before the facts spilled and he could already feel his fingertips growing cold, eyes refusing to blink as if it would create a waterfall of moisture.

“Work it out for yourself, I’m sure you’re smart enough.”

“You- Wait, you were visiting him?”

“Yeah.” He lit a cigarette he knew he wouldn’t finish and spoke without nodding, inhaling tar and feeling the sickness return tenfold as his throat ached.

“But you’re talking in the past tense.”

“Yeah. He’s dead.”

It didn’t hurt to say it for some reason and Mizuki’s mildly distrusting expression helped with that, because perhaps he was entirely wrong and his mind had tricked him, maybe he was low on sleep and had hallucinated the whole thing. His Granny could have lied to keep him away from the hospital and the bed where his brother must surely still lie, but then something in his face must have remained still and stoic and Mizuki looked sick.

“You’re serious?”

“Deadly.” The pun wasn’t lost on him and his mouth twitched up at the side, hiding the too fast blinking of his eyes and the slightly hysterical tone to the breathy laugh he gave a second later.

“Sly, I’m sorry.” He didn’t know the reaction those words would cause, the immediate wetness in his eyes as if somehow that simple word of honest sympathy, empathy, horrible, chest-twisting genuineness, was all he’d needed to hear to make this real. Of all people Mizuki was the one who could sense a lie and for once, for fucking once he wished his words had been. He laughed as he spoke but nothing was funny anymore and he did it because he didn’t know what else to do and laughing was safer than whatever his other options may be.

He was talking like it was hilarious, unbelievable, like he’d never heard anything more amusing in his life, like he was recounting the act of his favorite comedian but in every tragedy there was always a comic relief character and for once he guessed it was him.

“Why? You didn’t kill him, his _lungs_ did. They _flooded_ , and he _drowned_. He drowned in fucking _air_. Who does that? Who the fuck would die like that? What kind of sick fucking- Sick fucking fucker would di- Who wo-?” His voice had broken and he was angry but his eyes were wet and his laughter was definitely hysterical now, smiling wide but eyes crinkled in agony and clutching at his chest like it hurt, laughing even as his back began to shake and he choked on his own humour. But it was growing more into sobbing and less into laughter as he carried on, waving his hands around as if trying to explain the ridiculousness of it all even as his eyes got wetter and overflowed down his cheeks and he was choking out words now, drowned and something about not even being able to swim and fucking _stupid_.

Mizuki approached him then, horror and sympathy thick in his intentions but Sly pushed him away, words barely legible now, “no, no, I’m _fine_. It’s funny, it’s funny, right? Stupid fucker _drowned._ Don’t you think that’s funny, huh, Mizuki?”

“Not really,” his voice was soft, and whether that was what broke Sly or whether it was his hands on his shoulders he didn’t know, but his last, hysterical, out of control laugh choked him and he almost gagged on his own saliva, freezing in place for a second before his entire face crumpled and he was just sobbing instead. Stood there on the spot, completely vulnerable and unable to stop himself even as he tried, breathing coming too fast and erratic, throat closing over and nose beginning to run as Mizuki just pulled him into his chest and wrapped arms around his shoulders.

His head was bent down, forehead resting just below the neck of his shirt, fingers coming to grip into the sides and shoulders shaking hard with every sob, body seeming to tear apart with each almost wailing exhale of air.

Mizuki couldn’t recall if he’d seen him cry before, he had the feeling he must have done, but even if that event had happened, it could never have been as horrifying as this, watching him completely break apart under his fingers. He hadn’t even known he had a brother, let alone a twin, he’d known something was going on but he figured it couldn’t be anything too bad or he’d have reacted to the asking more viciously than he did. But then perhaps the terribleness of it had resulted in him being so stilted and accepting of everything that had been happening, so passive and only breaking into true anger when pushed ridiculously.

But he supposed thinking about how he’d been acting was a little useless now, though he had to admit he didn’t know what to say, he hardly had any family of his own to draw experience from, and Yasu’s death wasn’t the same. Nobody close to him had ever died, though he knew assuming Sly was close to his brother was a dumb thing to do, but he’d never had anybody that significant in his life suddenly pass away.

He guessed there was nothing to say, he couldn’t bring back his brother or make him feel instantly better or make a joke that hey, it was better than living in this shithole! Anybody else might have been horrified at the way he reacted, might have seen him as heartless or cold for laughing when his own sibling had died, but the sheer inappropriateness of it had only made it more blatantly true because it was such a Sly way to react there was no doubt it wasn’t one hundred percent real.

 

He let him hold him for a while, choking audibly on his own spit and coughing so hard his whole body shook, shaking under his hands and still in a state beyond mere sadness but not quite bordering on hysteria any more. Then he pulled away suddenly and somehow seeing his face made it all so much more horrible, the hopeless, distraught crinkle of his eyes and the wetness of his mouth was so open and vulnerable, making Mizuki’s chest ache for him.

He’d stopped gasping for seemingly long enough to speak one more sentence, voice shaking and wobbling over itself, wet with anger and dissolving into sobs by the end, “I shouldn’t even be here!” It was too much for him to hold in, that was the only way Mizuki could describe it, hand over his mouth and nose, fingers splaying all the way up to his eyes just trying to hold it in, this emotion was too much for him and he was backing away with an arm tight around his waist.

He inhaled then, long and shaking like a tree in a hurricane, trying to gain control only to exhale in breathy, panicked sobs, back hitting the wall and letting himself fall to the ground, not sliding slowly like people did in films but buckling instead, hitting the carpet with a thump.

“Sly,” still no words, pausing as he approached because he’d reached a hand out as if pushing him away even as he lingered too far away to touch, wiping his eyes as if they didn’t soak again seconds later.

“Leave me alone.”

“No, Sly-“

“Please, just leave me alone, Mizuki. _Please_.”

He didn’t want to, but he’d said please like he never did so he nodded and did as he said. Or he sort of did anyway, returning seconds later to drape a blanket over him, watching as he scrabbled to pull it around himself, hiding his face, not reacting to the mug of ridiculously sweet tea he placed beside him.

Good for shock, they said, but if anybody was in shock it was Mizuki.

 

He didn’t really understand why Sly drank the tea, but he didn’t fully know why he’d bothered to make it either, just glancing over occasionally to see him sipping messily from the mug, hidden between his knees and hair falling down to conceal his face. He was still crying though, or if not then at least still trembling all over, shoulders hitching every now and again and hiccupping on the next breath he took, sniffing and keeping his knees tucked into his chin protectively.

There wasn’t much Mizuki felt he could do with Sly in such a bad state, he’d feel callous turning on the TV or doing anything much but sitting still, absently reading a magazine article and making sure to check on him every now and again, because if he wanted to be left alone he’d follow his wishes. He flicked through brightly inked pages absently, stopping on the occasional page to scan the information or to examine the tattoo submission page, wondering if one day he’d be able to send off his own work for the world to see.

He’d just begun reading an article about a new range of specially pigmented inks for use on darker skin tones, when he heard the gentle sound of the blanket dropping to the floor and Sly’s sniffs grew purposeful before he spoke.

“I-It’s funny, because you would have liked him. You would have really liked him, I know you would, and he would have liked you. Ironic, huh? If I’d been the one tha- The one that died. You could have fallen in love with him instead and things would have been easy for you.”

This felt weirdly like an apology even as he spoke to the back of Mizuki’s head as much as he focused his gaze on the emptying mug in his hands, familiar sturdy handle in his fingertips. He wasn’t sure what it was an apology for, maybe for his brother, who’d never gotten a chance to meet people and make friends, a way to say sorry that he hadn’t tried harder in his stead. An apology to Mizuki, perhaps, for not making things easy as his brother undoubtedly would, for being the cold one who struggled to make nice conversation, who made friendships but refused to acknowledge them as that. “But no, he had to die. He never even did anything wrong. It’s not fair. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve any of it.”

Anger had seeped back into his tone but it stayed dry this time, exhaling shakily and wiping at his eyes when he turned to regard him, knowing what to say this time as well as what the answer would be. “But you would?”

“Yeah, have you not met me?”

He didn’t respond to that, just shook his head as if saying it was useless to argue now and probably cruel to as well, if wishing he could’ve traded places with his brother made sense to him, made his guilt less severe, he didn’t want to destroy that, incorrect though it was. It seemed ironic though, cruelly so, that Sly’s brother perhaps hadn’t wanted to die whereas anybody who knew Sly well couldn’t deny that he had that air about him, of one who wanted an escape. Sly might have been happy to sacrifice himself for his brother, perhaps the act of dying to save another would make him finally feel worthy, that one act of kindness might bring him some relief even as he slid into a medicated coma he’d never wake from.

 

* * *

 

He went home after that, to his Granny’s, crept inside and noticed instantly how chilled the air was, the entire place dark and unwelcoming, it felt like it had been abandoned for years but he wasn’t surprised to see the old lady sat quietly sipping tea at the dinner table.

She’d always been a strong sort of person, or he’d felt so anyway, like a solid, sturdy battleship of flesh that could do anything and be everywhere at once, productive and taking no nonsense.

But he’d always seen her weaknesses too.

The bruises on her ankles where she’d fallen or bumped herself, the sores on the soles of her feet as she rushed around too fast for a lady of her age, the wrinkles growing around her mouth and the tired, weary way she stood up from a chair.

Now he wasn’t sure what he was seeing, standing before her in the kitchen and knowing he wasn’t the person she wanted to see, knowing he was almost never the person she wanted to see but feeling like today this was picking the scab off a wound. She answered his questions plainly, the way she always did, not expressing any emotion even as Sly’s throat thickened again and he knew if he hadn’t cried all his tears at Mizuki’s that his cheeks would be wet.

But then he asked one last question as she stood and washed her mug and her hands stilled under the stream of warm water, sponge squeezed in her hand suddenly and exhaling so shakily Sly wished he hadn’t asked.

“Did you hold his hand?”

“Yes, I held his hand,” and then her voice had gotten horribly breathy and the mug hit the bottom of the sink a little louder than she’d intended, remembering with horrible pain that she’d been _right there_ , holding her Grandson’s icy cold hand as he’d slipped away.

Sly didn’t know if he was comforted by her answer, he just nodded and held her shoulders and told her softly to sit down, to leave him to tidy up, refusing to look her way because he knew she was trying to conceal her tears and they were alike in that at least.

 

But the mug and teapot were clean too fast and he ended up curled up beside her on the sofa, holding her hand while she cried in silence, staring dead ahead and not so much as moving an inch, not reacting to his comfort because it had never been there before. He sat there quietly and he thought about Mizuki’s offer and wondered if maybe this was why his brother had stayed alive this long, if he’d somehow known that Sly would need somebody to replace him, he seemed the type of considerate bastard to stick around until he was sure he’d be okay without him.

 

* * *

 

He’d been abnormally excited for this shift and he wasn’t sure why until Kin walked in with a bag over his shoulder and dark circles under his eyes, looking somehow frustrated already and just aiming a thin smile at him as he disappeared into the back.

But then he remembered that this was his debut as assistant cocktail mixer and that was always a baptism of fire, between making drinks and serving people, they entertained, throwing bottles between them and juggling with shot glasses, shaking up mixtures with elaborate gestures and pouring from high above for appearance more than anything else.

Cocktail nights were fun and they drew in a different crowd to other nights, mainly women who liked the special discounts and offers on the fruity beverages, willing to tip for a good show from the attractive workers and offering many compliments and ‘oohs’ of amazement. Tio didn’t get sick of bar work, but he had to admit that pulling pints and uncapping ciders night after night got old, and making the elaborate mixtures was more challenging, especially when there was a group of customers waiting and those who had come just for the show itself.

He liked entertaining people, he always had, making them laugh with jokes or well told stories, by lighting shots in a plume of impressive blue flame, holding dumb themed nights with drinks like the ever classy, ‘blow-job shot’, milky liquor topped with whipped cream and drank without the use of your hands, right off the counter. He always left work feeling more rewarded those nights, the very exhaustion in his bones proof that he’d done the best he could and knowing the people who left the bar had started their night off great because of him and whoever he was working with.

 

But alas, the dream to make sure Kin felt that buzz of achievement seemed to die the moment he stepped behind the bar to start making drinks, faltering with everything, bottles slipping in his hands and making drinks wrong, rum instead of vodka and other mistakes he shouldn’t be making. He was too focused on trying not to fuck up that he didn’t even have the chance to make his pour more dramatic or to throw and catch the slice of lemon that ended up on the rim of the glass. But Tio could take over, throwing around his cocktail shaker and lining up jaeger-bombs so the purchasers could watch the shot glasses of jaeger neatly tip like dominoes into the energy drink below.

Almost everybody had drinks by the time he was able to ask if Kin was alright, having been watching him from the corner of his eye and growing more concerned each time his hands fumbled, “you were good at training, Jesus what happened?”

“I think I’m nervous.” That was obvious and Tio could see his hands shaking, trembling on the bottle he held and liquid splashing onto the counter as panic seemed to build in him, no real time to try and reassure or comfort him, people were waiting for their drinks and their show.

“We’ll call it that, sure. You ready for the routine before we get back to serving?” His nod was tense but he could hardly say no so Tio considered it was the best he would get, finishing off his tray of drinks and setting it neatly on the counter, listening to Kin’s bottles clank worryingly behind him and debating that this might have been a terrible idea.

 

He was proved right far too soon, it was clumsy and uncoordinated, Tio trying his best to recover every time Kin caught a bottle too late or sent one at a dumb angle, bumping into the back of the bar counter hard to catch one and grimace only making his co-worker more nervous. He figured it was a one-off mistake, just a bad throw he’d tried to correct messily, lunging for the bottle and all but slipping on the wet ground, watching Kin try to catch up only to completely forget what he was meant to be doing and stand there uselessly.

But less than ten minutes later it happened again, knowing it was going fine as the crowd surrounding them cheered and clapped appreciatively, waiting for the second of the song where they’d rapidly shift positions and bottles. He, of course, had been doing this for quite a while now, at least three years, and knew the routine and the steps off by heart, but Kin had less than four hours experience and none in front of actual people. So he shouldn’t have been surprised when he turned and crashed right into his chest, aware in the second he grabbed his shoulders and managed to shove him aside that their bottles were too low in their arc and if they caught them it would be a miracle.

His fingers narrowly met the cold neck and there must have been millimetres between the base of the bottle and the hard floor, hearing a loud smash and a curse, liquid splashing onto his legs even as he straightened up with his own bottle. The crowd took it well though, booing half-heartedly and some of them laughing, occasional comment filtering through, that it was bad luck, Tio turning to see Kin looking so incredibly embarrassed he felt really sorry for him.

“It’s his first night guys, be kind to him!” They seemed a little more understanding then, Tio spinning the bottle in his own hands and drawing their attention as Kin almost crawled around on the floor, rapidly sweeping up glass and laying down towels to soak up the rum. “Alright, who wants a flaming Sambuca?”

Cheers erupted then and the disaster was neatly averted, no words exchanged between them but a quick look ensuring Kin didn’t so much as spin a bottle again, setting out to make sure everybody had drinks and letting Tio be flashy, trying to hide how disappointing he felt he’d been.

 

He was too quiet while they cleaned up and Tio could tell something was wrong, possibly more than just the effect of a bad shift, pausing almost nervously with the mop in his hand, “you okay?”

“Yeah.” He answered too briefly, pushing his question away and resuming changing the large rum bottle mounted to the wall, not bothering to turn around even as he was addressed, fingers slipping on the shot measurer he was trying to align it with and cursing under his breath.

“You don’t seem so okay to me.”

“I jus- _Fuck_ ,” his voice changed from feigned calm to irritated so fast that Tio blinked in surprise, almost slamming his fist into the counter once the bottle was securely fixed in place, self-depreciating in a way he’d never seemed before. “That went so badly. Maybe Mizuki shouldn’t have promoted me, I- I can’t fucking do this, it’s too hard, I’m clumsy as it is without throwing bottles all over the place.”

“You stop that. You did fine, alright? On my first shift I threw a bottle and knocked Mizuki out for a good five minutes. Believe me, that went _very_ smoothly.”

“You knocked him out?” It seemed that for every terrible story he had, Tio could one-up him but he appreciated it normally and certainly did now, just looking a mixture of horrified and entertained at the idea of knocking your co-worker unconscious in the middle of a shift.

“Mm-hm. He promoted you for a good reason, we just need to practice more, alright?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I am technically your boss too.”

“What do you mean?”

“He asked, you know, about whether you could do it, whether you deserved it. I told him nobody did more than you, alright?” He felt abnormally embarrassed for saying that, or perhaps it was Kin’s smile that was making his cheeks feel pink, honest tone turning scolding a second later. “And that’s the truth, so don’t make me feel shitty by saying you can’t do it when we both know you can. Anyway, let’s count up the tips, you start on the jar and I’ll work out what’s in the till,” Kin just nodded, looking only a little consoled but doing as he was told anyway and unaware of Tio’s eyes lingering on him for a moment before he began his own task.

 

They divided the tips between them equally and Tio locked up for the night, heading home together as always but Kin still too quiet for the walk to feel anything but uncomfortable, offering a cigarette he took and knowing he was still annoyed with how it had gone.

“I know I’ve asked you like five times already, but are you sure you’re alright? I know you had a pretty bad shift but it wouldn’t normally bother you this much.”

“I’m just… A bit stressed, I guess. Looking after mum and trying to get to visit her, and doing team stuff and working two jobs _and_ trying to have a social life without bankrupting myself. It’s just like, I don’t know, this promotion came at exactly the right time so I guess I’m trying to work really hard and prove I can do it but I know if I fail I’m screwed,” he laughed then, more of a snort if anything, but his voice had changed the tiniest bit, not wet as if he was going to cry any second, but thick, like he was trying his best not to. Tio had never really heard him like this before, just listening quietly as he listed everything he’d been stressing about, how difficult it was for him just to manage his time, let alone his money on top of that, a bad shift probably the final nail in the coffin for him.

They’d paused at a red traffic light, a single motorbike roaring past and the road deserted past that as it always was, Kin sighing so deeply his shoulders dropped about a foot back down to where they should be, tension seeping out of him and rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a downer. It’s just been one of those days. Or weeks, really.”

“Hm, it’s okay, it sounds pretty crappy. Guess a bad shift was the last thing you needed.”

“Pretty much. I should have told you I didn’t think I could do it tonight, I was really nervous when I arrived, I mean, that’s not the right word. Like jittery?”

He didn’t know how to describe it but Tio had noticed so he didn’t really need to after all, the other filling in the blanks for him easily, “you seemed kinda freaked out, did something happen before you arrived?”

“Nearly got fired from the restaurant for something that wasn’t even my fault,” his voice had broken the tiniest bit there but his jaw was set hard and he looked as annoyed as he clearly was upset, irritated at himself and for being blamed for something he couldn’t help. “Some dumb woman let her dog wander round everywhere and I tripped over it, poured soup all over somebody. My manager went _insane_ , started _screaming_ at me, almost fired me right then.”

“What happened?”

“The guy I covered in soup rescued me, said it wasn’t my fault and that I tripped. It kinda worked but she still might fire me if anything else happens, then I got into work tonight and fucked everything up.” He was annoyed at himself and it was obvious in the exasperated hand he ran through his hair and the aggressive, disappointed way he spoke, tense and still letting little mistakes bother him.

“Kin, you didn’t fuck everything up, and even if you did nobody would ever fire you for one mistake.” It was odd, being the one to reassure him for once, their roles reversed and wondering if maybe every time Kin saw him distressed he felt this horrible knot of worry in his chest, the strong urge to try and make things better.

“I know, I know, I don’t like being made to look like an idiot and it’s happened twice today now. It’s- Whatever, it’s over now, it’s fine.”

“You don’t sound fine,” Kin just looked at him then, shrugging, not sure what he was meant to say to such an obvious comment, the other suddenly taking his arm and leading him in the wrong direction, blindly following along. “Come on, I know this great place that does mochi and these awesome salted caramel hot chocolates, my treat.”

“How original.”

“Isn’t it just? Now come on, cheer up, big guy. At least you got tips.” Kin opened his mouth then and Tio almost anticipated his words, holding up a hand to silence him and frowning up in his direction as he looked sheepish. “Don’t you dare say you don’t deserve them, we get half each no matter how crappy either of us are, alright?”

“Alright.” But his smile was warmer and Tio could tell he’d already started to relax, laughing as he wrapped an arm around his broad middle and patted his back, a friendly gesture he seemed to appreciate even as he made a joke about Tio taking advantage of his vulnerable state.

 

* * *

 

When Sly thought about constants in his life, he was aware there weren’t many. Drugs? They were fairly constant, most days if he was lucky and could get the money. Alcohol too, and cigarettes were even more constant, about every half hour, often much more if he felt the need.

But the normal things? Money, food, sleep, clothing, hot showers? They were erratic as fuck.

His company was erratic too, spending days alone only to be approached by five guys on the same day, constant of money following the pattern of company. In fact the only thing he could think of that was a true constant, was Mizuki.

Maybe that was what he needed, something regular and normal, something constant to get him into a routine, perhaps his wild lifestyle was only making his grief more erratic, more painful than it would be if he allowed himself to be looked after. Strangely enough, just thinking that made his eyes well up and he hitched in a breath because god, he really wanted somebody to look after him, just for a little while until the hole in his chest healed up.

 

His brother had been a constant too, but he let that thought slip away as soon as it came because thinking about him still made a sharp rock wedge into his breast bone and he didn’t know if he could deal with the weight of it today. So yes, his brother had always been there, when they were kids he’d been in and out of hospital, he’d never really met their ‘parents’, Granny had kept him pretty much a secret so perhaps she’d known something Sly hadn’t. But there had been a brief period between them leaving and Sly going entirely off the rails where he’d been able to return home, albeit mostly bedbound, he’d at least been nearby and in relatively good health.

He’d liked that, it was probably what had prevented him from turning to the freedom of the streets earlier. But he’d gotten a chest infection when he was about fourteen and been readmitted. He’d never gotten out again after that, he’d been wheeled through those white doors and never smelt fresh air again or felt the sun on his always abnormally pale face.

 

But he didn’t like to remember that, he’d prefer to recall the days when it was so cold outside there was little else to do but stay safely inside with hot drinks nearby, curling up beside him in his bed on better days and watching old movies on video tapes that crackled and popped with age and bad treatment. Or Sly would sit there for hours trying to do something with his brothers’ hair, he’d try to weave it into elaborate plaits while he slumbered or talked with him quietly. The attempts were never very aesthetically pleasing but Granny always showered them with praise and Sly would _glow._

But it was definitely over now, if the hospital had put an end to their closeness then his coffin would be the true destroyer of whatever fragile bond they’d had left.

He told himself he wouldn’t, but the day of the funeral he crouched, concealed on his Granny’s roof and watched her leave, dressed all in black and with a couple of friends he didn’t recognise at her sides, holding her arms and presumably comforting her.

He didn’t go the cemetery, he hated to think of his brother in that tiny box when he’d always deserved so much more.

He stayed in his perch until she returned, alone now, looking small and steps shuffling and faltering as she padded up to the front door in worn shoes she’d always hated but that cushioned her work-tired feet and soothed them. Funny, that a pair of shoes offered more comfort than he did.

 

But he forced himself to snap out of the past and back to now, at his Granny’s still, sitting motionless on what had been his brothers bed, made up neatly and none of his things moved, as if they’d expected him to return, like they’d been waiting for four years. Ren was sat on his lap, silently regarding the room but knowing not to ask questions, he had a vague idea already and AI or not, he was at least programmed to have some tact.

He had the feeling Granny would shout at him if she found him there, in the shrine-like room, maybe she’d yell and cry and be angry that he was wrecking the only things of his they had left now, his stupid stuffed animals and his tiny clothes because if Sly was skinny his brother was something else altogether. But he knew she wouldn’t do that, he knew she’d pause to regard him with that blank stare, flick the light on so he wouldn’t be sat in the dark and she’d leave him there to do whatever it was he was trying to do.

She would think maybe he was grieving, not that he was silently making a list of pros and cons. Pros of staying with Mizuki for a while, and cons of doing just that. The problem was that the list of pros was so long and tempting that he wanted to throw caution to the wind, and fuck that Mizuki loved him and just go anyway to somewhere he wouldn’t be judged the way he felt here.

He’d been distracting himself quite well, but for some reason a sudden swell of angry, unfair rage built in his throat as he wondered who had gone to the funeral. Strangers, a bunch of people who hadn’t even known him, might not have even known he existed but he, his fucking twin, wouldn’t have been able to get anywhere near.

It was the unfairness of it all that had him curling up into the cold bed and staying there until the sun rose up and he’d made a decision, pretending the pillow wasn’t damp as he stood to shower, collect his things and leave.

 

* * *

 

He wasn’t remotely surprised to see his right hand man when he entered his apartment, they’d agreed to hang out anyway and waiting in the hallway when he had a key would be both illogical and stupid. “Oh, hey, Tio, you haven’t been waiting for me for ages have you?”

“Nah, just feels that way, it’s only been about ten minutes.”

He’d responded a little oddly but he brushed it off and apologised anyway, or sort of did, reminding himself that he probably should actually say sorry rather than just making excuses the way he normally did. “Okay cool, somebody caught me in the street and wouldn’t shut up, that woman from the post office with the ugly dog, God she can talk!”

Tio smiled and opened his mouth, presumably to supply her name, when the sound of the toilet flushing reached both sets of ears and Mizuki frowned, glancing towards the bathroom in curiosity more than anything else. “You bring Kin with you?”

“I wish,” he rolled his eyes and it took him a moment to register what that must mean, though by then his other guest had appeared back into his apartment, shooting him a lazy peace sign and looking completely okay after his meltdown of only a week or so ago. Tio’s eyes just tracked him cautiously as he sank onto the sofa next to him but a little further down, watching him as you would a snake, prepared for him to attack at any moment and clearly on edge.

There was a packet of cigarettes between them on the couch and Sly picked them up the way he always did, helping himself to one and offering the box over to Tio who just stared at him like he was insane.

“Are you really offering him my cigarettes right now?”

Tio answered before Sly could, though he was a little grateful for that because he didn’t want him to turn cold and scornful, not with company he’d already pissed off once. “I thought you’d quit? But I mean, if they’re yours,” he tried to smile jokily as he took one, nodding in way of gratitude at Sly for an offer that wasn’t really genuine but he felt needed some kind of acknowledgement. He lit up nonetheless, knowing Mizuki didn’t really mind either of them taking them, benefits of being friends with him he supposed, though associating Sly with the word friend still seemed odd to him.

“I only smoke with him. But why are you both here?”

“He was here when I arrived and I wasn’t leaving after walking the whole fucking way here.”

“Right, makes sense I guess. Is there something I can help you with because we kinda had a thing planned?” He felt a little bad for essentially trying to make him leave after knowing he’d had a terrible time lately, seeing Tio’s eyes tracking the same things he was, the torn open flesh of his fingertips, the red rings around his eyes, the puffiness of his face. He’d been crying and it was very obvious but neither were dumb enough to bring it up and Mizuki wondered then just what they’d been talking about before he’d arrived, if they had been at all, perhaps Tio had just been sat there in silence, letting Sly study him.

“Your proposition.”

His voice hardened immediately and Tio’s expression thinned a little, lips downturned in confusion at how vague they were both being, how whatever this was spoke of being some big secret, and the fact that Sly had presumably needed to think about it meant it must be serious. His initial, worrying thought was that it had been some bizarre sexual thing, but with how seriously they were talking it couldn’t be, the bartenders sudden stiffness making him seem like this was really important to him. “What about it?”

“I’ll do it.” He didn’t let himself pause, or hesitate or lessen the meaning of what he said with dumb jokes or quips at the bartenders expense, just looked him in the eye and spoke, tapping ash into the tray he and Tio were politely sharing, amused as the man who had punched him not long ago now sat in his company, a little uncomfortable but with seemingly no ill feelings towards him.

“Seriously?”

“No, bartender, I came all the way here to raise your hopes then smash them.” He really wanted him to just accept that for once he wasn’t lying, but when he did it so much he supposed he should have expected some distrust. Feeling vulnerable and exposed with an audience here, even if he didn’t know what was going on, what he’d just agreed to, he felt put on the spot and he wanted to run but he’d promised himself, and his brother, that he wouldn’t.

“You would totally do that though.”

“True, but nah, I’m serious.”

“Alright,” he shrugged, making a big deal out of it was a sure-fire way to freak him out enough to rapidly change his mind and start a tirade of angry reasoning’s he didn’t want to hear. “Why?”

Silence fell and even the awkwardness Tio had felt at being alone with him was nothing compared to the atmosphere now, bitten down fingers tapping ash that hadn’t formed yet into the tray and taking another drag with cracked lips. One of his legs was bouncing erratically, tapping on the floor, creating a loose staccato beat, a nervous twitch for sure and not the actions of one who was fully happy with their decision, whatever it might be.

But an equally cryptic answer came through and it must have been enough for Mizuki because he just nodded and let him leave, telling them with less sarcasm than normal to enjoy their night, heading off to who knew where.

“You know why.”

 

He was grateful, at that moment, to Sly’s brother for having been the one thing, the one person that had allowed him to finally take a chance, even it had taken his death to do it, saying some kind of quiet thanks to him. He too, was grateful that Tio didn’t question anything that had happened, just letting him take too long to get them both drinks before snapping him out of it by demanding they watch some dumb action film he’d been told was good.

So they returned to the evening as if nothing had happened and Sly did whatever he did, Mizuki knowing it might be a while until he turned up to actually fulfil his part of the bargain but knowing that when he did, things would get a damn sight messier than they had been already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY NOT SORRY (but seriously I cried so much writing this chapter damn)
> 
> Character Designs, updates, ficart and other things of interest- [here](http://minky-way.tumblr.com/tagged/intravenous-series)
> 
> Next installment will be titled 'Contaminated'. Thanks for sticking with me through this and continuing to enjoy my work, your lovely words really encourage me to continue


End file.
